The Captives
by panyasan
Summary: After the events of Terra Prime, an investigation leads to T'Pols imprisonment. After she returns, everyone and everything has changed.
1. Prologue

The Captives

By panyasan

**Prologue**

**Disclaimer: **Enterprise and it's characters are propriety of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line:** This story takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Authors note**: Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka for her inspiration and help.

_Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh_

_Indukah-kahk mashau-fam_

_Katra-kahk ka'tur_

_Ha-tor __nash-veh, hi _

_Ha-tor __nash-veh-nirsh._

Separated, I am empty

Like a indukah tree without water

Like a soul without logic

I am alive, but do not live.

H'nas, poet and writer (in the year 353).

T'Pol felt the desert breeze on her face. It was the end of the cold season and the sun was not scorching like in the dry season, but it burned on her head. She wasn't used to these conditions any more. She felt a sense of homecoming but it was diminished due to the state she was in. The restrains were hurting her wrists and with every step she took the little bell attached to her feet – a strange old habit from ancient times – reminded her of her imprisonment.

She stepped into the warden's office. She was accompanied by a tall women, wearing the black robes of a prison guard. She handed her new clothes and checked her personal belongings.

"A personal_ aseno_i is not permitted. You have a meditation fire pot in your cell," said the guard, taking away the meditation pot, a childhood gift that she cherished.

The guard looked with a critical eye on her _vokau_, the triangle shaped plate used to remember loved ones. She felt an emotion that she strongly wanted to suppress. T'Pol was determined to keep it at all costs. Fortunately, without a word, the guard shoved her bag with the _vokau _back toward her as a sign of permission. Then she removed the restraints, told her to put her own clothes in a bag and left.

She quickly slid into the dark slate undergarment and folded the white, ironed collar round her neck with some difficulty because of the device. She fastened the robe and put her sandals on. Boots were not allowed. She always wore heeled boots, the minute she had found that human invention, because it added some height she enjoyed.

The warden entered. She was a tall woman, with a stern face that measured her with one look. She handed T'Pol a new bell. "_Ras-kur kling,_ give the bell its rightful place." T'Pol attached the bell to her new clothes. Ras-kur kling, literally translated _gray nobody_ was the title of prisoners in Vulcan.

"Your number is _dah-leh-teh reh-leh steh-kul_ (2037). You are here because of illogic. It's our task to bring logic back into your life." The warden explained the daily routine. "You wake up at 3.00 hours, 7 minutes for bathing in the bathroom, 3.10 breakfast, 3.20 first shift of work, 4.20 lessons of Surak, 6.20 meditation, 7.50 second shift to work...."

She went on for an hour, explaining the rules, including that T'Pol wasn't allowed to speak against her. Then a new guard entered the room and took her to her cell. It was a small place, with only a mattress and a meditation fire pot. She put her _vokau _in a corner, where it wouldn't be easily seen. This was no place to show your vulnerabilities. She stood in the middle of the room and heard the muffled screams and sounds around her. "Ras-kur kling," she said out loud. Gray nobody. But the wall consumed her words.

It was not the treadmill of work outside in the sun or inside in the factory, the hours of lessons in the _Kir'shara_ or the meditation hours on the hard floor - that made this life almost suffocating. It were her fellow prisoners. They were not only illogical, they were erratic and bordered on insanity. Staying alive became her first priority.

Being clearly a women of high upbringing, her fellow prisoners were annoyed by her presence. M'Lek was the worst, a tall woman that used to be beautiful. The madness in her eyes drove out anything appealing and reminded T'Pol too much of the erratic Vulcans of the _Seleya. _M'Lek's intent was to shock her guards with her unruly behavior and her shouts during lessons became something to be expected. She was punished accordingly.

Every morning she washed herself quickly, secretly longing for a good, warm shower, a longing that she should suppress. One morning, shortly after her arrival, she finished dressing as M'Lek walked in.

"Shorty," she said, repeating one of T'Pol's nicknames in the prison. Prisons were the only place in Vulcan society where nicknames were used. Without further warning M'Lek put a hand on her neck, forcing her face sideways along the sinks. She could feel the stone brushing her skin.

"I know you, daughter of Karik and T'les," she hissed into her ear, "You're like those fragile Earth beings that Vulcans can crush with one blow. I despised them, but unlike you I didn't kill them. Your father spent his life creating ties with his precious alien allies and you just killed it. I killed my mate – because he deserved it – I had every right as a Vulcan woman. That's logic. That's Vulcan. You're not Vulcan any more. Don't you agree?"

T'Pol knew that M'Lek killed her commanding officer and had no regret. According to her, he cheated on her, so he got what any Vulcan women would have served him. If she said "Yes" to M'Leks question, maybe she would survive, but she would become her slave, free for M'Lek and her circle of friends to torment her every minute in this place. That was not an option.

"No."

The very moment that word escaped her lips, M'Lek slammed her head against the sink. At the same time she heard the bang, she could feel something warm against her face. Then M'Lek hit her again against the sink. She felt hopeless for a second. This women was much stronger than her and could indeed kill her with one blow.

M'Lek whispered something madly in her ear, holding her in a firm grip. T'Pol could feel her, smell her sweaty body close to her. She realized M'Lek was her living nightmare, the person she feared becoming more then fear itself. But if she didn't face her, she would be dead.

There was a sound and a split second later, M'Lek turned her head, easing her hold on T'Pol's head. In that that moment, she moved quickly and bit the point of M'Lek ear. She bit down hard, until her tongue distinguished the copper taste of blood and she heard M'Lek scream in agony. Then she kicked her in the stomach with all her strength, grabbed her head and smashed it against the wall. For a moment M'Lek was down. She straighted herself and walked out. She never looked back.

She could hear M'Lek calling her every name in the book that Vulcans supposedly never read when the guards – warned by the signals from her neck device - stopped her. In the office, the warden accused her of attacking a fellow prisoner and she demanded that she apologize. T'Pol didn't. It would seal the fate that she just fought.

She wiped the blood off her face with a sleeve, staining the gray cloth green, and looked at her with all her dignity and said, "I think that the High Command wants me to live." For a brief second she questioned if that was indeed the High Command's intent, but now there was no room for doubts. "So I made sure I stayed alive," she added.

"You're in no position to think. We think. Not you," the warden fired back, but she didn't make her apologize. Instead she denied her the privilege of a private cell for a week. During that time she hardly slept, constantly on her guard, sharing her space with six other prisoners. She grew to dislike crowds, but she became aware that her stay with Humans had made her more adaptable to being deprived of privacy.

After a week, her own cell was a welcome sight. In the dark with, only her meditation pot as light, she looked at her _vokau _for her child. Briefly, she inhaled and allowed herself to grieve. The pain consumed her. After a while, she tried to reassert herself, her situation requiring her to stay focused and strong. She shifted her attention to Trip, as a beacon of hope.

She remembered his smile, lighting up her life. The way he had shaken her logic. She remembered his kindness, when they grieved. She realized being able to grieve with him, if only for a short period, had helped her more to deal with her pain of loss than she had thought possible. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming longing for Trip, that burned deep in her _katra_. It was better if she suppressed it, but at this moment she didn't. An emptiness filled her. _Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh _she contemplated and, feeling the emptiness and loneliness without Trip, she started repeating for herself the old line from the poem of H'nas: _Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh, Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh...__._


	2. Chapter 1 Kov the ship

**The Captives**

**Chapter 1 Kov – the ship**

Disclaimer :Enterprise and it's characters are propriety of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line:** Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Authors note:** I used one sentence from the screenplay of the ENT-episode _Fusion_, because it fit so nicely. The character Gus, the husband of Anna Hess is inspired by Alelou's excellent stories. A special thanks to my beta, **KKGlinka**.

**Summary****:** Trip meets a old Vulcan friend.

**T**he first thing he noticed was the coldness of the place. Underlined by the blue colors humans seemed to like so much and the use of metallic materials, the temperature of the building made him shiver with cold. He suddenly appreciated the warm dark-yellow, almost brownish colors of Vulcan buildings and ships, the colors of his warm, desert-home planet. He entered the complex together with the Starfleet officer, by the name of Herikson, who had escorted him from the shuttle into one of the many caves on this rocky moon. Hidden into in the cave was his destiny: facility 545. He followed Herikson down the corridor and they stopped at a door. Herikson used his code and the doors slid open. He stepped inside in a room, crowed with Starfleet personnel, all dressed in blue.

His arrival caused some curiosity amongst the working engineers. They looked at him and waited. A man with blond hair approached him. Two blue eyes that reminded him of a picture he once saw of Earths redundant oceans, confronted him. He looked somewhat familiar, like a friend he met only shortly, but somehow had made a impression that lasted. But, there was something different about him.

When the chief of engineering raised his hand to give the traditional Vulcan greeting, the young Vulcan responded to this friendly gesture by extending his hand to imitate the way of greeting he had seen before by Humans.

The engineer took his hand and while shaking it, his eyes shifted for a moment from his face to his ears. A sudden wave of emotions washed over the Vulcan. Due to the training any Vulcan received and the techniques learned at the V'tosh Ka'tur, he could easy identify the emotions: Grief, regret, loneliness. There was something more, something he had felt at a crucial time in his life, but he could not put a name to this emotion yet. Then their hands lost contact and and the feelings were gone.

A fraction of a second he studied the men before him. He was thinner then he remembered, his posture not so straight anymore and his hair was darker. And his eyes.... He remembered them sparkling with the joy of life and a kindness that made him feel very comfortable. The kindness was there, but the spark was gone. It was the fatigue and sadness in his eyes that shocked him. He looked older in some way, but it was him.

He greeted his chief for the coming weeks with the joy of meeting an old friend. "Commander Tucker."

"Kov", Tucker greeted back.

His coming had been communicated to Tucker, but still the commander seemed surprised to meet him at this unusual place. Tucker explained that Star fleet was busy reorganizing and that his ship, _Enterprise_ was in dry-dock. In the meantime, the crew of the _Enterprise_ were sent on different assignments.

His explanation was as short as Tucker's. He told the commander about his accidental meeting with another Starfleet officer, when he was working on the maintenance crew on Deep Space 1588. The officer, who had heard about Kov's background, had told him that Star fleet was looking for another engineer. They wanted a open minded Vulcan engineer, loyal to the Coalition, with knowledge about non-human engineering systems and languages, to offer a the Starfleet research team a fresh, new look at the object to be studied.

According to the officer, he fit the profile exactly.

When members of the Starfleet research department contacted him, they did a thorough background check, asked him all kind of questions ranking from his political views, his engineering skills, his ideas about Romulans (the human word for the Rihannsu), his views on Humans and if he knew anything about ancient Vulcan handwriting. He had studied many ancient Vulcan books in the V'tosh Ka'tur in the attempt to explore his inner self, so he had the knowledge.

Of course they asked him why he left the V'tosh Ka'tur. He answered that after the discovery of the Kir'shara and the way it prompted large-scale re-examination of Vulcan customs, he no longer felt the need to continue his independent study.

He still vividly remembered when he got the job by CommanderWillows of the research department.

"Engineer Kov, you are accepted. Let me give you some details about your new assignment. A few months ago, a captain of Star fleet was traveling back from a diplomatic mission. His escort responded to a distress call from a colonial shuttle pod. The pilot was from Earth, but lived in a Human colony on a nearby planet. The area they traveled had many dangerous nebulae and the shuttlepod was trapped in a gravitational disturbance. When the rescued colonist met Captain Archer, he told the captain that he had found something very interesting on the surface of his planet. Captain Archer went down to the planet and discovered the remains of a Romulan ship. Starfleet took the ship apart and transported it to a facility nearby for further study. We would like you to help us."

With all the rumors about the Romulan threat and the struggles of the founding of the Coalition, Starfleet was eager to find as much of information about Romulan technology as possible.

"Where exactly was the ship found?" he asked.

"We call it the Kajina-system, famous for its beautiful enormous orange moon," Commander Willows answered.

It was a once in a life-time job, which offered him the opportunity to learn more about other species and new engineering techniques. And after all he had heard about the warlike manner of the Rihannsu, he could hardly be called a friend of them. He was ready to help.

The new job was – like as Starfleet had promised – very fascinating. Three small teams, each with their own specialties, were working in the facility. There was the conference room where the heads of the teams met every morning, together with Commander Tucker who supervised the teams. Further the facility consisted of a small mess hall, the rooms where the team worked, the gym and of course the cabins of the crew members.

The observation of Humans kept his investigating mind busy. He learned quickly. He tried very hard to have a good working relationship and they respected his skills as an engineer, but at first the crew hesitated to make contact and still waited for him to make the first move. He noticed that people wondered why he, the only non-human on in the facility, was asked to join the research team. Especially in this time, with the threat of war and Vulcan's hesitance to become involved, being Vulcan was not popular and prejudices ran high. He did not judge the Humans, remembering his prejudices against Humans as well, but the more time he spent with Humans, the more he realized how very Vulcan he really was. Only Commander Tucker talked to him from the start, asking him if he was not too cold or if he liked the food. Commander Tucker – Trip – seemed to like his company. He thought of him as a friend too. In his relationship with Humans, the one with Trip was the most friendly. He seemed to accept him just as Kov.

His cabin was small, but the furthest from the other crew members, which provided him the necessary silence to meditate. His closest neighbor was Commander Tucker who had the same size cabin. He heard him waking up every morning, early, going to the gym to exercise and before taking a shower. Between showering and breakfast he heard hardly any noise for almost a hour.

He wondered about this behavior, as he was becoming more intrigued by Commander Tucker – Trip - by each passing day. Trip worked diligently, hard, focused, professional. He was a good leader, but oddly enough he hardly employed his unique style of humor. It was like sadness was his company, where ever he went. Maybe it had something to do with the rumors he had heard.

He had noticed that his arrival had stirred up some old rumors about Commander Tucker and the Vulcan commander of _Enterprise_. To his astonishment he also heard some gossip that she had admitted to having an intimate relationship, outside marriage with a non-Vulcan. Even the Vulcans who broke with a lot of traditions, would not share such personal details with others. It was very strange.

Beside Commander Tucker, he developed the most contact with his team members. He was part of a team of five people, Lieutenant Anna Hess and Ensign Micheal Rostov of _Enterprise_ and the Lieutenants Giovanni Azzurri and Jessy Warner of _Columbia_.

The first thing he noticed with Lieutenant Hess was that she was with child. It was not like Vulcan custom to let a pregnant women work and he tried to help her. One day he heard her complain to Commander Tucker about him being too protective. It was a conversation he was not supposed to hear, like many talks he heard at the facility. He did not think any one remembered that Vulcan hearing was better then Humans.

"He is driving me mad, Commander," she argued with Tucker. "All the time, he's picking up my tools, offering help to carry things and just not letting me do my job! He would carry me around if he had the nerve. He's worse then Gus!"

"Have you tried to talk with Kov about it?" the Commander wanted to know.

"What's the use? He wouldn't listen. Nobody does."

Lieutenant Hess seemed a bit agitated. Things were not going well in the research and as one of the team leaders, Lieutenant Hess felt the pressure. "Look Anna, just tell him. Kov is a reasonable guy, he understands. Vulcans are just very protective of their children."

"And we are not?" Hess blazed. Then suddenly, her voice became very soft.

"You okay? Sorry about that, I wasn't thinking. Must be hell," she said earnestly.

"I am okay, Anna. Just a headache. Talk to Kov. "He could clearly hear, by the tone of his voice, that Commander Tucker was dismayed.

They continued with their work and so did he, till he would meet them again in the mess hall for lunch. His team had developed the habit of eating lunch together and it proved an opportunity to talk with them. He had noticed that this innocent chatter about nothing helped working relationships. Sometimes Commander Tucker would join him them, because he had the practice of joining a lunch group. He always ate breakfast and diner alone.

A couple of times before, Lieutenant Harris of the science team had asked if she could join them for lunch. There was never any objection. As soon as Harris was seated, she tried very hard to make conversation and asked him all kind of questions about Vulcan. He understood her curiosity very well – he always liked to ask questions himself - so he tried to answer them.

Lieutenant Harris finished early and when the lady left, Lieutenant Warner made the remark that Harris had a crush on Kov. "Maybe you should ask her on a date, she might like that."

He did not think that Lieutenant Harris was crushed in any way.

Ensign Rostov quickly explained to him the human metaphor that the hearts of men were broken by women. His explanation earned a raised eyebrow from Lieutenant Hess, who said Rostov was joking, the phrase "a crush on" was an expression of interest.

Most of the women on the facility were more impressed by the charms and looks of engineer Azzuri or Warner, so he replied that he didn't think she was interested. "But I am some what intrigued by the concept of dating. What is the purpose of it?"

Lieutenant Warner looked amused and talked about getting to know a girl better by taking her out to some place, like a movie.

He did know movies – Movies night was the talk of every Friday night. "So if you want to get to become acquainted with a female better, you take her to a dark room with lots of people to watch a movie. But how can you talk and get to know each other better in such a place?" he asked.

Commander Tucker – with a little smile on this face, that made his face much younger, said "So you'd rather go to your quarters and read a book together?"

He responded that indeed that a Vulcan way of getting to know each other was to study and discuss philosophical matters together. "With your betrothed of course. On Vulcan parents choose the partners of their children, so most Vulcans know from early age who they are going to marry and take steps to get to know that persons better."

Commander Tuckers smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"So you are married, Kov," Hess asked him.

He went cold inside, but due to his Vulcan training, nothing showed outside. "No, I am not," he said.

"You didn't like the girl your parents picked," Warner guessed and with a quick look at Commander Tucker, added "and you broke it off. So nothing is stopping you from dating. You'd make a nice couple," he teased.

Somehow the thought that he would make a couple with someone else beside T'Rel was very disturbing. As a matter of fact, he had come to the conclusion that she had been excellent choice. "I had some disagreement with my parents about certain ideas of Vulcan society. I had distanced myself from my family and also from my betrothed. So I am living alone," he tried to explain without contradicting Warner's assumption.

Warner found it very fascinating but, not as interesting as the environmental controls. The coldness of the place was a popular topic and had led to naming the moon where the facility was based to all kind of interesting names. Warner started complaining to Ensign Rostov why he hadn't fixed the environmental controls, because he was freezing his butt off. They others laughed and finished their lunch.

He ate his in silence, his mind busy with the past. When he looked up, only Lieutenant Hess and he were still in the mess hall. The others had left, back to their work. He took the opportunity to apologize for his behavior. "I noticed that I offended you by helping you with your work. I am sorry."

Hess sighed. "You didn't offend me. You just don't have to carry my stuff. I'm maybe four months pregnant, not a invalid."

He still didn't understand why she was less pleased, when he was only trying to help. "Vulcan women with child don't work or do only very light work."

"Well, that sounds a little old-fashioned to me," Hess said in her typical accent.

He had thought many times that Vulcan society was rather old-fashioned, but not in this case. "In pregnancy Vulcan mothers tend to be unbalanced, especially in the first months."

"So that's what Vulcans call it?" Hess interrupted him.

He tried again to explain. "Vulcans are touch-telepaths. A mother can also feel the emotions of her child, before and after birth. It's a very special time. I think that is reason why we have this custom."

Hess looked more understanding. "Well, human mums are pretty good in reading their kids as well."

"It also a way for a parent to let her affection feed the child," he added. "When a child is born, a custom is to give wishes like 'without water a Indukah-tree can not grow, so can a child not grow without affection'. He hoped he had translated his fore-mother's favorite proverb _Indukah mashau-fam to-ovau, kanbu-kam ashau-fam to-ovau_ correctly into English.

Hess smiled. "That is a good one. I'll try to remember it." She stood up from the table. "It's been interesting. I must confess, I didn't like the idea of working with you. I am sorry about that. Commander Tucker was right to appoint you in my team. He seems to know you pretty well."

"I consider Commander Tucker a friend," Kov replied.

Hess looked curious. "Did you hear the stories about him?"

"And about Commander T'Pol, yes I did," Kov answered.

"Well, you don't beat around the bush." Hess grinned.

Because there was no vegetation to hit on this rock, he decided that the phrase was just part of the colorful human language. He grasped the opportunity to ask a question that had been on his mind. "I do not understand the stories, especially about a child. Maybe you can explain."

Hess sighed and she looked sad. "Starfleet is trying to keep in under wraps. A group called Terra Prime created a child form from Commander Tucker and T'Pols DNA. Their child. It was a sort of plan to scare people and keep Vulcan and Earth separated."

"Is a Human-Vulcan child seen as a scary thing? A child is innocent," Kov said, feeling passion rising in his blood.

"The child is innocent. It was a stupid idea. But it turned out very tragically for commander Tucker and T'Pol, when the child was…ehh..gone. At first it looked like they were comforting each other. I still remember seeing them in the memorial service, holding hands."

"They were holding hands?" Being a human, Lieutenant Hess didn't understand the significance of this gesture, but he did.

Hess nodded. "Yes, I kind of felt good for Commander Tucker that T'Pol was helping him. But then everything changed. Starfleet wouldn't easily talk about it, but I know there was an investigation surrounding them. At least one of their conversations was leaked. Someone spread the word that T'Pol had said their relationship was in the past. After the investigations, she was gone. I haven't seen her in a while."

"Where is she?" he wanted to know.

"Some people say she is grieving on Vulcan, but nobody really knows. She isn't in Starfleet. Or on Earth."

He had one more question. "About this relationship, you mean friendship?"

Hess smiled quickly. "Take it from the second in command at Engineering, there was more going on. And T'Pol talked about intimate relations, that's a bit more than just friendship."

"Intimate... This is the part I don't understand. She admitted to have a very private relationship with a human, which she was not married to, in public? To her superiors? That is very unlikely behavior. Relationships are taken very seriously in Vulcan society."

Hess didn't see the problem. "Well, she is an unusual Vulcan."

"She is still a Vulcan. I am sorry, Lieutenant Hess, but most of my people are extremely uncomfortable talking about such things. You can call it inhibitions, but we don't talk about our private lives in public to no one. Especially not when you are a very high placed female Vulcan..."

Hess agreed. "You may have a point. You know, a lot of people care about Commander Tucker. I do. He's been my boss for five years now and he is good guy and he's been through a lot. Gus and I tried to help, but maybe he needs help from another old friend. Maybe he needs some one with more feeling and insight into Vulcans. I really hope that would help him, because frankly he is not a happy man right now. We're all worried."

Firmly Kov replied, "If he is my friend, I must help him."

**Translation of Vulcan words**  
Indukah – a tree with leaves found near an oasis and water  
Fam – without, not  
Mashau – water  
Kan-bu – child  
Kam – love (suffix)  
Ashau - love


	3. Chapter 2 Kov Lethizeh

**The Captives **

**Chapter 2 – Kov - Lethizeh**

**Disclaimer:** Enterprise and it's characters are propriety of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line:** Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary:** Trip meets a old friend, Kov at a secret research facility of Starfleet. During Kov's stay he discovers that Trip and T'Pol had a relationship and no one has seen T'Pol in a long time.

**Authors note:** A special thanks to my beta, KKGlinka and to Rigil Kent for inspiring the idea of T'Pols imprisonment.

Walking back to his quarters, Kov thought about how he had changed, since he had left his home town. Who would have thought that he would be talking about Vulcan's customs to Humans, that he would be quoting one of his fore-mothers favorite proverbs to a Human mother!

When Trip and he had met the first time, he was still the boy from the small town of Elret of the Limetho Province. Raised in a traditional, middle class family, he had shown great talent for engineering. His parents urged him to go to a university, traveling between home and school.

He always was rather skeptical about traditional Vulcan thinking and while attending the university he joined a small group of students, critical to everything the elders told them, and eager to study ancient Vulcan teachings. In this group he met V'rek and Konol who introduced him to the secret teachings of the V'tosh Ka'tur.

When he joined the V'tosh Ka'tur , he was so sure that they were the true Vulcans. They were trying to find the true way a Vulcan should live. Not like the old Vulcans who were stuck in tradition and did not see the potential and freedom the ancient scripts were offering. Emotions were not to be suppressed, but experienced and controlled. He thought he had become part of the best group of Vulcans, all idealists in the search for the truth. The price of being a outcast of Vulcan society was a small price to pay.

He still valued a lot of the teachings and he had made many good friends. But, his trust in the V'tosh Ka'tur was shaken after he heard that a group member named Tolaris had used their techniques to violate people's minds. In the aftermath of his discovery of this betrayal of everything the group stood for, he began to have doubts. He became more sympathetic to the careful way the older generation handled things. Freedom was good, but also could lead to abuse, such misuse about which his father had warned him.

Maybe that was the reason that when the opportunity offered itself, he made a quick visit to his family on Vulcan. The moment he saw his father – well recovered from his illness, but still more fragile then before – he saw himself in an older version. The angry words that had stood between them faded.

But it was nothing compared with seeing her again. T'Rel had been his betrothed before he left. He had never given her much thought. Her father would never have give him permission to marry his daughter after he had joined the V'tosh Ka'tur, and he didn't think she would be interested in a member of a group most Vulcans considered a cult.

During his short stay, T'Rel made a special effort to talk to him. After she left his parent's house, he suddenly realized that he never seen such a beautiful, smart women before. He tried very hard not to think about her, but some times – in unexpected moments like now– she came to mind. _The irony_, he thought, _I could have married her, but my chances of that are now gone._ He felt anger, only by the thought of her taking another mate.

Then it hit him. The emotion he had felt during his handshake with Trip at their first meeting at the facility. It was an empty, almost hollow pain of regret after saying goodbye to your loved one. The same pain – he now realized – he felt thinking of T'Rel.

He had heard that Human affection was fleeting, but if the emotions of Trip he had felt were any indication, it was clear that Trip was suffering, because of his strong affection for T'Pol. And she, being like any other Vulcan in an intimate relationship, could only be suffering too, if she were separated from Trip. So the break-up between Trip and T'Pol was illogical and very confusing. _'Confusion leads to nothing; only logic can lead us to the path of truth'_, his old teacher at the V'tosh Ka'tur used to say. The logical course of action was to gather more information from Trip himself.

With his Vulcan friends he usually played a board game, while discussing various subjects. So after some thought, he came up with the idea to invite Trip for a friendly game of Kal'toh tomorrow night, in his cabin.

Trip accepted his invitation with enthusiasm. "That's with the rods, right? It's a great game. They should teach it in every engineering course. Helps you a lot with thinking in 3-D."

Trip started talking about his introduction to Kal'toh. He told Kov about his journey to Vulcan and how he played the game with his companion, on the way to Vulcan. For a moment he saw the old Commander Tucker, reminiscing about a precious time with a special companion. _She introduced him to her family_, Kov thought, _a clear sign of a close relationship. One more reason to play a game of Kal'toh and talk._

He spent the evening studying the databases for hours. In the morning he arose early and went to the exam room to work. After reading the results from yesterday's tests, he checked components of the navigation system.

Then Trip arrived. His hair was still damp from the shower. He looked deep in thought.

It wasn't Trip's time to start his shift. Yesterday the commander had done many tests 'til late at night. The results were impressive and once more he realized that the commander was a very gifted engineer.

"Do you need a hand?" Trip asked.

Kov nodded at this somewhat unusual offer. "You could help me dismantle the blue and yellow device."

Both men started to work in silence.

Trip broke the silence. "So... in the V'tosh Ka'tur you learned a lot about ancient Vulcan customs and beliefs?"

He was somewhat puzzled by this question, but then he realized Trip was referring to yesterday's conversation at lunch. Kov didn't understand why Trip would bring up this subject right now, but he was eager to talk. That had been the purpose of his invitation, after all. He didn't care if they talked while playing a game of Kal'toh, or while examining components of a navigation system.

"Our aim was to know more about our past, so that we could become truly Vulcan. A noble cause."

The next question took him of guard.

"So your fiancée had no interest in learning more about ancient Vulcan beliefs?"

He looked up from his work. "I don't know. It was my choice. I thought that after she heard of my departure, she would understand the logic of my departure."

Trips face changed, his voice developing an edge. "So you never told her why you left Vulcan?"

"Like I said," he started, but he was interrupted by an angry Trip.

"Yeah, I know. Logic." That seemed to be the end of the conversation, but without warning Trip asked him "Do you ever miss her?"

"Miss?" he asked Trip. He did not want to tell Trip how much he missed T'Rel and how much it confused him, even when he tried to suppress that emotion. He always prided himself that he was an open person, but now he understood the need most Vulcans felt to avoid answering personal questions.

But Trip deserved a honest answer. So he said, "Missing a person is an overwhelming emotion, Surak tells us. The best way is to suppress this emotion. I found this advice to be very wise. Missing a person can be very disturbing and disruptive, especially when there is no respite." He then decided that sharing his own experience was helpful and he added, "I know this from personal experience."

"But what if a person tells you that she misses us, you sometimes, but most of the time she's suppressing it?" Trip wanted to know.

"If that person was Vulcan, it would mean that the attachment was very strong or that she was having trouble maintaining her control. Or both."

To his surprise Trip started grinning, a big smile appearing on his face. Apparently, he didn't understand the gravity of this matter.

"This is no laughing matter, Trip. Control, even to experience emotions, is necessary for a Vulcan."

"I know, Kov." Trip's grin was gone.

Kov decided to cut right to the chase. Referring to their talk on the _Enterprise_ four years ago, he said, "Trip, you helped me in the past. I see you as my friend. If I can help you in any way...."

Trip accepted his invitation. "Can I ask you something? It's kind of private."

"It seems we always have these conversations," Kov said.

Trip had trouble starting, but then blurted out, "I'm having dreams, vivid dreams, that are not mine. I have memories popping up in my mind, so detailed, in color.... I can taste the drinks in the dreams, I can feel the breeze, it's like I'm in a movie."

He was fascinated by Trip's story. "Is that unusual for Humans?" he asked. "Are your memories not in color?"

"No, they're more like pictures, flashes, fragments." He explained further, "Look, they are very detailed but I'm not that detailed. I can't even remember the dress my date had on prom night, or the color of my nephew's hair. Or what I had for breakfast. And the dreams... Even the white space is there, but it's not white, it's black."

Kov had no idea what prom night was, probably a very important Human event, and he could hardly imagine someone forgetting things. It made sense that a sensitive race like his would be more perceptive of details. "You think your dreams are influenced by a Vulcan," he concluded.

Trip nodded.

Kov thought about all the things he had heard about Trip and T'Pol, from neuropressure, the visit to her family, her annulled marriage -- meaning the marriage rituals were not completed -- to the admission of a close relationship. If T'Rel had done the same, he would be looking for a priest. _Nirak_, he scolded himself in his thoughts, and focused again.

His only possible conclusion was that T'Pol had given Trip her heart, and it was not the Vulcan way to take it back. Then there was Trips mention of the white space, which sounded like a place only known by Vulcans. Trip talked about it like it was the most natural thing to him, and influencing dreams was something only a bond mate could do. It was clear to him that Trip and T'Pol had a very close relationship, even more, they were bonded. It was really amazing. He hadn't thought it was possible between a Human and a Vulcan.

"Do you have headaches, nausea, pain in your neck, sweating?" He summed up the symptoms of bond mates being kept apart.

Trip recognized the symptoms. "All of them. I also.... Sometimes I feel really hungry, but it's not my stomach that's protesting."

"You share the feeling of physical needs. That's natural. The symptoms are clear. You are bonded."

Trip didn't like his conclusion. "But I haven't felt the bond in over a year! I mean, I don't know if she cut me off, or the place they sent her to was the cause, but we aren't bonded anymore."

"You still are. Bonds do not just fade away," he said. Some ancient texts were very specific on that point. "But why do you think she cut you off and which certain place are you talking about?"

Trip hesitated. "She has been in Lethizeh in U'tal Province."

"Commander T'Pol has been sent to Lethizeh?" Kov was very surprised. The commander was from a high ranking family and he could not think of any crimes that would send her to that place. But those who were sent there were put in absolute isolation.

Kov felt Trip had left him with yet another mystery, but he wanted to answer Trip's important question. "Then your assumption is correct. Blocking any telepathic avenues, especially the bond, is standard procedure in Vulcan prisons."

**Translation of Vulcan words**

Kal'toh – game of intense strategy that can be played solo or by multiple individuals. A kal-toh set consists of a number of playing rods called t'an. The object of the game is _"to find the seeds of order even in the midst of profound chaos."_

Nirak – fool


	4. Chapter 3 Trip the nightmare

**Disclaimer:** Enterprise and it's characters are propriety of CBS/Paramount.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Time-line:** Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

The shore leave mentioned in the flash back takes place between _Enterprise_'s arrival on Earth at the end of February, 2154 and the end of April, 2154 (time period of the ENT-episode _Home_).

**Summary:** Kov has discovered that Trip and T'Pol are bonded and that due to the fact that T'Pol is sent to prison, Trip hasn't felt the bond for one year.

**Author's note:** This chapter is from Trip's point of view, revealing how Trip felt during that year and that T'Pol has spent her year in prison and has been released. It ends with a flashback, set before _Home_. Thanks to my beta KKGlinka.

**- Facility 545, Trips cabin, a few hours before the conversation in the exam room -**

He woke up sweating and still with flashes of his dream on his mind. The wall of ice. The black void in space, a place where planets and stars had disappeared. The black clouds that surrounded him. Punching against the wall. Shouting, without hearing any sounds, because the clouds seemed to consume the words.

It took some time for him to adjust and to remember that he was sitting in his bed, in his cabin, in the facility in the dark. "_Some weird dream. Again_," he thought, staring in the gloom of his cabin. Then he turned on the lights at the lowest setting, making his cabin a more friendly place.

With a sigh he saw the PADD on his desk, the place where he left it when he went to bed. A quick look at the chronometer told him that he had just three hours of sleep. Three o'clock in the morning. He took the PADD from the desk, but immediately put it down.

Starfleet was breathing down his neck, demanding new insights into Romulan technology, language and any other information about the Romulans. Information they expected that the ship they were examining could give them, **must** give them. Salvaging the ship was seen as the opportunity that would give both Earth and the Coalition the upper hand in the conflict that seemed about to explode.

He rubbed his temples as his hand went to his hair in silent despair. There was nothing to find. The database of the ship was full of all kind of information about the species within the Coalition, and other interesting stuff, like a subject called Kheh. It got them all excited about this so called breakthrough, 'til one of the linguists found out Kheh meant wheat and all the information was about making ale. Not the information you want if you are looking for news to win a war.

Also, the technology in the ship was no different then anything he had seen. Starfleet had hoped that a Vulcan engineer – with more experience with Vulcan culture and foreign technology - would help to see, to find something. But even though Kov was a excellent engineer, he was no miracle worker. And in spite of his reputation, Trip wasn't one either.

Maybe if things were different... He had some ideas, but they seemed so far fetched. Not for the first time he wished T'Pol were here. She occupied his mind more then ever. He hadn't been in touch with her for one painful year, 'til three weeks ago. He had made a visit to Earth to inform Starfleet of the "progress" they were making, when he found out T'Pol unexpectedly had returned to Earth. The news about her hadn't been spread around; most people in Starfleet were still unaware of her return.

T'Pol didn't only understand science, she breathed science. She had a brilliant mind, a creative mind that never failed to amaze him. When they worked together and weren't at each throats over their personal problems, they made a great team. She was the only one that he could tell his theories to. Of course she would object to his ideas– it was all part of the game.

His eyes suddenly saw the picture next to the PADD. He had taken it out of the photo album from his cabin on _Enterprise_. It was a picture of the crew on their first assignment. T'Pol was dressed in the stupid gray carpet suit she wore then, that somewhat hid her great beauty and figure. He looked young, even naive. He saw his reflection in the black computer screen, a older Trip, then the one in the picture.

He sat down in the chair next to the desk, staring at the picture in his hands, and the memories came back. When he was chosen to be chief engineer on Enterprise, on the best Human warp ship, he and his family were over the moon. He was eager to explore new planets and new technology, to learn and to let other planets learn about Earth.

The only thing he didn't like about his new career, was that he would be working with a Vulcan observer aka spy, someone who was looking for any mistake they would make. Jonathan Archer, his old friend, shared his opinion, and together they were waiting in the captain's quarters for the Vulcan – by the name of T'Pol – to arrive.

He was surprised when she entered the room. Not only was she beautiful in an exotic way, in the short time they spoke, she was arrogant, but also... Her answers came with a bite. And he liked her more then he was ready to admit.

It was ironic, but as time passed he became more friends with that stubborn petite Vulcan with a bite than with Jon. Captain Archer was captain first and friend second and slowly their friendship flagged. As second and third in command, respectively, T'Pol and he helped each other to deal with the captain. Because mostly – in spite of all their bantering – they agreed on ship's business.

Like that day when the captain was so sleep deprived that he seemed to care more about Porthos than acquiring new plasma injectors. Without those injectors, the ship would be dead in the water. His attempts to get the captain to just apologize to the Kreetassans, the species that could provide the injectors, failed. So he teamed up with T'Pol and she helped him.

It also worked the other way around. The captain was so depressed after the destruction of the colony of the Paraagans, he didn't want to see T'Pol. So he went to see the captain and helped him quietly deal with his grief by watching water polo.

They always worked well together and, in spite of their bantering, deep down there was a mutual respect for each other. But he really got to know her in her quarters. In his mind he could see her room, the pillows on the floor, the brown shades, the candles. Her smell.

The first time he entered the quarters that in the years became his home in a hostile universe, was after he had read the letter from her fiancée Koss. He was surprised, proud even, that she asked him for advice about her marriage to Koss. She listened to him, stayed on _Enterprise_ and called it off.

Later he learned how much she had realized that she was taking a different path, and that she didn't know where it would lead to. Strange, after she decided to stay, they didn't grow closer. It was like both realized that some distance was in order, if they admitted that they liked each other too much, they placed themselves in a difficult situation.

But they did. In that dark, horrible place, feeling the grief and rage, chasing the Xindi in the Expanse, she helped him. In spite of everything, he had begun to love their session together, the talks, the banter, the work chatter. The feeling of coming home. He stopped going to the sessions, after they wound up in each others arms, after that glorious moment where he could sense her mind, her feelings for him. It was so exclusive, intimate, like being one in every sense, that he almost could understand the Vulcan emphasis on marriage.

But the next day... It looked like the women who had surrendered to him without reservation, with passion, love and commitment, the women who had called him Trip, had vanished by dawn. The moment she started talking about exploration, he felt like she had thrown ice cold water on his face, like he was falling from a cliff. He felt like she was dismissing everything and it just felt bad. He hated the veneer of the Vulcan scientist beneath which she was hiding, making it out to be some sort of experiment.

Then he saw her face, her gestures, the way she held her cup up like a shield, during breakfast. He knew her that well to recognize her darting eyes, her nervousness. She seemed unwilling to live with the consequences. So he matched her and lied too. He didn't want the consequences either. If she wanted to deny everything, fine. He didn't care. He would move on. No problem.

He even asked one of the MACO troopers, Amanda Cole, on a date again, but he found out the hard way that you can't date one woman, when your mind is still on another. He explained to Amanda that he wasn't over his ex-girlfriend, never giving her any specifics, but she was a clever girl. He sometimes thought about his remark to Amanda. He knew he wasn't over T'Pol at any time after the events in the Expanse, because simply he didn't want to be.

After all the trouble with women, he just started focusing on his work. But even with the small comfort from Mal that T'Pol only showed interest in him and no other guy on the ship, it stung. And the tension stayed. So they stopped meeting. He slept better, anyway.

Their homecoming. He had seen T'Pol falling apart, wondering what was going on, if he had something to do with it, as they grew close and apart again. Then when they where ripping each other's heads off, almost home, she called him Trip again. She talked about how things had changed and about consequences. He said he was all ears, he was ready to listen to her, but when he came back from his two week visit to his parents on shore leave, she was the one who started listening.

When he came home to his parents, he expected that they would share their grief over his sister and their daughter. But somehow, he couldn't connect to them like before, like they had become strangers. And he felt –more then they really said it – his parents blamed him – _Enterprise_ – Starfleet – somehow for the Xindi attack.

In a conversation with T'Pol about some work related stuff, he blurted out his frustration about his family. She listened and told him her story, how her mother and she became estranged, because they grieved differently over her father's death. How her mother disliked her choice of career and was hoping she married a Vulcan husband.

He advised her to get in contact with her mom again and maybe visit Vulcan. He always had such great ideas.

After this talk, their friendship rekindled. It seemed only natural that they start spending time together again. For two great months, they enjoyed each others company. They developed a close knit friendship. It was a great, happy time. The thought of going beyond friendship was always there, but both of them never spoke about it, not 'til their visit to the beach. He felt like going back in time, remembering that day vividly.

_T'Pol had shown some interest in going to a lecture on micro singularities at the Marine Science Society. He was forced to admit it was a interesting lecture, but found his mind wandering to the gorgeous women beside him. She was wearing a purple jacket with black trousers and boots. In her hair, a matching shawl that covered her ears. She was listening carefully to the speech, not noticing him. There was something about her that made her just beautiful. He started paying attention again, when he realized she was watching him. He turned around to her, she turned away, but in a second their eyes met. What was she thinking? _

_After the meeting they both left the place and wanted to drive back to Starfleet Headquarters. Walking to the car, they discussed the lecture. Without thinking he jumped to the one thing that has been on his mind, since the first time he had seen the purple shawl around her face. _

"_You're cold?" he asked her. _

"_No, I am fine." She pointed at her warm jacket. _

"_Just because..." he said, waving his finger to the purple shawl. _

"_I just thought it was a good precaution, to prevent any disruptions," she answered. _

"_Did you have any problems?" he wanted to know. _

"_Just a few," she said, "but given the tensions at Earth, it was not surprising." _

_He sighed. T'Pol wasn't the person to complain about any hostilities. The Xindi-attack hadn't made aliens very popular. He hated that she had been confronted with anti-Vulcan sentiments. It made him realize that their spending time together was something special and he got an idea. _

"_You know, the weather is mellow and there is a very nice beach in the neighborhood." _

"_You want to go swimming," she concluded. _

"_Nah, it's not really a swimming hole and the water is too cold for that," he answered. "But the view is great. We can take a walk, you know, have a warm drink at a restaurant. Have you every tried hot cocoa?" _

_She hadn't, but not long after that they were sitting in a cozy restaurant with an ocean view. A gentle breeze was coming off the sea, the sun shining. It was the perfect place to be. After they had ordered cocoa with whipped cream and discussed the nutritional value of chocolate milk and the Human tendency for sweet food, she surprised him by looking for pecan pie on the menu. They had none and he simply looked at her face. To the distant observer, she looked like any Human woman, as was her stated intent. He didn't like that she felt it necessary. _

"_I have looked at your essay on warp anti-matter configuration for the Science Journal," she said, while handing him a PADD. _

_He took the PADD and put it in his shirt-pocket. _

"_You are not going to read it?" she asked. _

_Knowing T'Pol, she made many very useful observations for his essay; he was eager to read it, but not now. He was not in the mood to talk about work related stuff. "No, I'm just here to enjoy my drink," he said and looking at her face, added, "and enjoying the company." _

_If he wasn't so good at reading her face, he would have missed the change in her features and eyes, while hearing this compliment. It was the expression of every women who enjoyed a compliment, mixed with an almost shy expression like she couldn't believe she was sitting here with a Human companion, with him, enjoying his company as well. He become annoyed that so many things were left unsaid between them, when during the last weeks they had practically been dating, spending every free minute in each others company. _

_They talked a bit about the nice view and he told her that he had liked to come here, in his San Francisco days, for a jog on the beach, to clear his head. "Maybe it is my way of meditating. I always wondered what Vulcan meditation was like." _

"_I could teach you, if you like. You already know the basic breathing techniques quite well," she responded. _

_He had enough. "You know, I'd like to know more about Vulcan culture, because I want to know more about you. But what are we doing? We're spending every free minute with each other. I mean, what do you expect from me? Friendship? Mutual cultural exchanges?" _

_She seemed startled by his request, but tried to answer. "I consider you a good friend and my strongest ally on the ship. You have helped me on many occasions. You're a gentle person, caring, intelligent and with great talent and skill for engineering." T'Pol searched for more words to describe him. "I always found your company... stimulating, challenging. I noticed that I am now – content – in your presence, more content then I have been in a long time." _

_He was somewhat surprised at her straightforward remark and her admission at being content. Remembering their discussion of the fact that Vulcans were not in the habit of pursuing happiness, this content Vulcan just basically told him that she was happy, because of him. But he had to know. _

"_You didn't seem to be very… content with me, when we were in the Expanse." He could see that she didn't like that question and he felt like an idiot for not giving it a rest. _

_In spite of her unease, T'Pol answered. "I do not fully understand, but in spite of our many differences, you are my friend. I thank you for that." _

_There was something about the thank you-speech he didn't like. And the resentment of her words one eventful morning in the Expanse made him say, "So where did your little science experiment fit in all this?" _

_Just slightly he noticed her face change and before he realized what it meant she stood up. Without a word she left him and started walking down to the beach, leaving him flabbergasted. _


	5. Chapter 4 Trip the beach

**The Captives **

**Chapter four – Trip – the beach**

**Disclaimer:** _Enterprise_ and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Timeline:** Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth–Romulan war (2156–2160).

Most of this chapter is part of the flashback started in chapter 4, and takes place between _Enterprise's _arrival on Earth at the end of February, 2154 and the end of April, 2154 (time period of the ENT episode _Home_).

**Summary:** Trip remembers the days after the Expanse, when T'Pol and he became very close. When visiting the beach, T'Pol had thanked Trip for his friendship. When Trip had reminded her of the time they were more then friends, T'Pol had walked away.

**Author's note:** Thanks to my beta KKGlinka.

**- Stenson beach - **

_At first Trip didn't know what to think. Why had she just walked away? He had seen a glimpse of pain in her face. Why would she feel hurt? Wasn't he the one who had every right to feel betrayed?_

_For a very brief moment he thought of just walking away and leaving. _**_He_**_ had the car keys. He could face her tomorrow like any other colleague. Something more than their unique friendship was trouble and caused complications, all kind of things he tried to avoid. On the other hand, he would regret walking away. At her worst, T'Pol seemed to tread on his heart with all her logic. At her best, she was a compassionate, strong, smart, open-minded, inquisitive, attractive women with a great sense of humor. She was a mystery, a challenge. He had never felt this strongly about anyone. Besides, he didn't want to leave an alien women stranded on a beach in a strange world, even if she was perfectly able to survive any situation._

_He walked over to the waitress, paid for their beverages and looked again toward the beach. He saw her sitting at one of the picnic tables, back straight, her head down. The last bit of his anger washed away. His legs were already walking towards her and he sat next to her. He felt tired, but determined._

_The waves of the sea were the only sound. She looked at him, searching his face, his eyes. She turned, staring toward the sea as she started to speak. "I grew up with traditional Vulcan values, but my father always encouraged me to examine everything for myself. We were a close family, that was, before my father died. After his death, I was alone, but still felt guided by his advice that he had given me when I was young. Like him, I wanted to learn new things, new possibilities, to travel to the stars. I was curious, but my curiosity to step away from traditional thinking has mostly led me to bitter consequences. It also led me to follow a new path, difficult, different than any others of my people. In retrospect, it was also because I met you._"

_He had listened without interrupting her. He had noticed before that T'Pol was more relaxed telling a story that revealed her inner thoughts than just plain talking._

"_Vulcan parents choose the mates of their children very carefully. They choose mates that are similar on a social, emotional and cultural level."_

_She went on in a more distant tone, as if she had played out the arguments in her head beforehand and arranged them with Vulcan logic._

"_We are different on all those three points. Culturally we were from two different worlds. We seemed to disagree on many topics. So it would be illogical for us to have a relationship. Further, it appeared that emotionally I couldn't give you what you needed. You never talked to me about your distress over your sister's death, but you talked with Corporal Cole about her. Apparently, she was more suited to fulfill your needs than I am."_

_A bitterness crept in her clinical tone, giving him a glimpse of the real T'Pol behind the mask of a Vulcan science officer. The one that cared for him and enjoyed his company._

"_That's what my mind told me, but in contrast to any logic, my caring and regard for you is obvious to me. I don't have many friends, but you are one. My friendship with you has been – from the beginning – complicated by our ..." T'Pol reached for the word and weighed it carefully, before she said, "…attraction. I should not have acted on it. I wanted it and there is no regret or shame, but it wasn't the time. Having an intimate relationship has many consequences for both parties, for their lives. It is a step most Vulcans only take in marriage, in a relationship that will last a lifetime."_

_T'Pol continued, staring at the ground. "I thought ... I am not very good at explaining myself, and when our conversation afterwards developed in a certain way, I thought perhaps it would be better if we ignored my behavior. The alternative, a relationship between us, seemed a bridge too far for both of us. To dismiss it was the easy way, without complications. I am aware it wasn't a very brave thing to do."_

_If he were honest, he felt hurt by her explanation. __What do you expect, Tucker____,__ he thought, __a declaration of love?_

"_You didn't want to live with the consequences," he concluded. He aimed to state it in a factual manner, but he surprised himself, hearing the bitter tone of his voice._

_T'Pol recognized the bitterness and seemed to shrink a little. With a soft voice she said, "As I told you before, I can't ignore the consequences. I have hurt you. I am sorry."_

_He shrugged, pretending he wasn't hurt at all._

"_I explained to you that I was curious. I was, but I would add that you are the only one with whom I would have acted the way I did."_

_She turned away and then looked back at him. "But you already know that."_

"_Yes," he said. In spite of everything they had said to each other, they both did._

"_My regard for you is ... quite overwhelming. Like many of our emotions. You're a kind man. Much too kind for me. It is not easy to distance myself from it."_

_Did he just hear in the midst of all her words some kind of Vulcan declaration of affection?_ _He had to answer. "I care about you too."_

_Their eyes locked for a second, facing the truth of their inner thoughts. _

"_Guess it was really something," he said._

"_Yes." The fact that she didn't hesitate for a second, did more for him than any other_ _words she had spoken so far._

_He probed further. "Guess we're quite something."_

_She gave him the only Vulcan answer possible, which made him smile. "That would be a logical conclusion."_

_For a minute or two a silence fell between them and they both listened in harmony to the sound of the sea. She took a deep breath, before she continued and her next revelation shocked him._

"_The situation was complicated by my neurological disease. I have P'Nar syndrome. I contracted it by attempting to experience emotions without suppressing mine. It was selfish, unVulcan. When I was assaulted the second time, the pain became ..."_

_She stopped. "The strain became too much. When I was later exposed to a chemical substance, I discovered that at first I could experience emotions more clearly, without losing control. It helped also to lessen the pain. I thought it made me work better with the crew, but it had negative side-effects. In the end it damaged my emotional control and my neurological pathways. But I continued for the wrong, selfish reasons. That was my biggest mistake. I became dependent on it, but I managed to stop."_

_His mind was processing the fact that she was ill, and he heard her talk, but one word kept repeating in his mind ... assaulted ... the second time. He knew about the attack by Rajiin, but what was the other attack she was talking about?_

"_This illness is the result of someone assaulting you?" He feared her answer._

_T'Pol's face got a haunted look that reminded him of the Expanse. With a voice that conveyed her fear and embarrassment she said, "I was curious. He said that he would try a mind meld, but when he tried, I realized he was playing games with my mind all along, preying on me. It was very disturbing. So I asked him to stop, but he still pushed. I managed to cast him away and he left my quarters."_

_For a moment, he could almost feel her terror. Without thinking he came closer and took her hand. The truth behind her story hit him. He felt rage for being unable to protect her, and against the man who did this to her, flooding his heart._

_It was growing colder and they got up and started walking in silence. "I wish I could have helped you," he started saying._

"_You just did," she said gently._

_Her admission made him realize her arguments against a relationship didn't hold up. "You know, it's not so complicated. Even logic suggests we make a good team. Differences makes us stronger. And deep down we're not so different. You helped me more than any other person on the ship when my sister died, and I have a feeling it also works the other way around. When we discuss ship business, we mostly agree. We share the same values, we both love our planets, love our work and even in the areas where we are different, we make a great team. I can't explain, but together we seem to be better than apart." He was hoping that he made sense._

_T'Pol stayed silent for several minutes. It felt like an eternity. Finally she offered the result of her pondering. "We are like the circle and triangle," she said._

"_What?" Trip had no idea what she was talking about._

"_My father once gave me a medallion composed of a circle and a triangle. It is a Vulcan symbol. Together we are more than the sum of things. Accepting differences as a strength. Accepting one another as we are. Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination. If I am correct, that's what you are trying to tell me."_

"_You're telling me I was quoting Surak?" he said._

"_I am telling you your logic was compelling. Perhaps we should investigate whether a relationship between us could work."_

_He grinned. "Isn't this the first time you let me win an argument? And very quickly too. I agree with your very logical proposal, T'Pol."_

_He pulled away her shawl, to reveal her ears. His fingers followed the outline of them. He could feel her shiver slightly at his touch. "You shouldn't hide those cute ears. They're your best feature," he teased her._

_She relaxed at his flirtatious tone. "I thought my 'awfully nice bum' was my best feature," she said._

_He had missed her dry wit too much in the last year. "Who told you that?" he asked, suddenly fearing that Mal had blurted something like this to her, but dismissing that idea immediately._

"_My ears have a function," she answered with that hint of amusement in her eyes that he liked so much._

_Both were happy with this silly moment._

"_I am glad we had this conversation," she said and he felt two fingers softly caressing his cheek. It sent spikes to his brain and he closed his eyes for a second to feel the intensity of the gesture._

"_I am glad too," he answered before he kissed her._

_Her lips were soft, her skin was smooth and her smell was like before. He caressed her face, he could feel her kissing him back, her hands stroking his hair. He realized he had missed her kisses, her touch, not only for their sweetness, but also because it revealed her heart and passion. And judging by the intense kiss she gave him, she had missed it too. The warm body under his hands became warmer. Time and place were gone, there was only the two of them._

_In the midst of their kissing, T'Pol broke off abruptly and turned around._

"_What's wrong?" he asked._

"_There is someone nearby. I heard a sound." T'Pol was convinced._

_He looked around, but saw nothing. Everything looked the same, except that it was was getting dark. They needed to get going. "There's nothing to see, no one is there. Come on, let's go, before it gets dark." He couldn't have been more wrong._

Trip snapped back to his present life. It was like he was having a dream, being awake. He had found out the hard way that T'Pol had been right. Someone else had also been on the beach. There had been something to see, for Terra Prime at least. When Starfleet discovered the pictures and intel Terra Prime had gathered on T'Pol and him and the organization's plan had become clear, he had felt sick. Sick that someone else had been present during one of his most private moments. Sick that they would use their lives to obtain their reprehensible goals.

Starfleet didn't care about the impact of the actions of Terra Prime on T'Pol and him. They were too busy panicking about the political consequences of the dirt Terra Prime had dug up from T'Pol's past, including Starfleet-regulations-first Captain Archer. The sympathy following their grief for their little girl was soon gone.

Their grief. His thoughts went to a little box in the second drawer of his desk. Pictures that he cherished, but never looked at. Because when he closed his eyes or even when he was just working or eating, at any moment she would come to mind and he saw her little face. "I was so proud of you," he whispered in the dark. He swallowed down his despair, his sense of failure and his pain, that cut like a knife.

He felt cold. He had been sweating and sitting in his skivvies in the middle of the night. A cold cabin didn't help much. He could use a good warm shower. The likelihood of him sleeping again was nil.

In the shower, his mind went back to what he called the year of hell. The first year of hell; this year had been the second. The mess started with their visit to Vulcan. Looking back, he sometimes wondered if T'Pol had wanted him to do something about that sham of a marriage. They had tried to go back to the just friends-stage, but they had both failed miserably. It was the end of their special relationship, especially T'Pol thinking that he had given up on them. It was better for him, all those nice logical reasons and her being trapped between Vulcan traditions and politics. All things he didn't know back then.

If it weren't for the bond, that would have been the end of it. The bond made him aware that she needed, wanted him, even more then he needed her. The bond became such a part of them, that life would be hollow and empty without it. Just as he had experienced this long year.

Even the celebration of the bond was short-lived. Not long after being together in the real Vulcan bond fashion, she told him everything. The details of her addiction. The attack of Rajiin. Her pain. Her discovery that the CX34T -component of Trellium had the same effect to trigger emotions and to lessen the pain. But also her control. Now he really heard what she had been telling him and it was like something snapped in his mind.

He had finally thought they were heading forward. All his frustration about her and the pain he'd experienced was poured out in hasty, angry words. She had mourned with him over the victims of the Xindi-attack, when Archer was on Azati Prime and then she was telling him that she had been too high to be in charge of the ship in a combat situation. What about the people that had died?

He called her selfish, irresponsible, the cause of disaster. Lashing out at her, he could feel her crushing pain and guilt. He knew that she was a woman with high standards, dedicated to protecting people, so how was it possible? He doubted everything she had ever said or did, that she really was the person that he had thought she was. He blurted out that she probably would not have acted on their mutual attraction without chemicals. He knew that for a lie, but he felt her confusion. It made him angrier. So he left her. And it had taken a tragedy to bring them together.

With the water was splashing over his body, he thought how he ended up in her cabin again, the only place where he felt at home. He wanted to be with her, to share with her the grief they both felt very deeply. They held hands, her father's IDIC between them.

After their fight over her addiction, T'Pol had been on pins and needles around him, but after his visit to her cabin, they were helping each other though their difficult time. He didn't think he would have made it through the memorial service without T'Pol's support and her hand in his.

The last time he held her in his arms, she asked him hesitantly, "Are you still angry with me, Trip?"

He knew what she meant. Even in light of all the events, he couldn't just turn a switch and just forgive and forget. "I don't know," he said, holding her close. _We need time_, he thought. But time was something they wouldn't have.

Stepping out of the shower, he heard Kov next door. Kov liked to work early. His mind went to the events of the last days. He knew there was something very Vulcan about his dreams, and not only because they started almost at the same time T'Pol had come back and he met her on Earth. They had had a strange conversation in the shuttle pod, which had made him wonder. There was still an ember there, on both sides, ready to flare up again.

Who better to talk to than Kov? Archer was too busy being captain, Mal had some strong reservations after what he had been told about T'Pol, and his parents hardly knew who T'Pol was. Kov had offered him his friendship and Trip was about to take him on his word.


	6. Chapter 5 TripKov Separated and empty

**The Captives**

**Chapter 5 – Separated and empty**

**Disclaimer:** Enterprise and it's characters are propriety of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line:** Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

This chapter starts with the conversation in the exam room, only this time from Trip's point of view.

**Summary:** Kov and Trip meet again at a secret research facility. Trip is having disturbing dreams and memories of his time with T'Pol. He decides to talk about this with Kov.

**Authors note:** Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka for her inspiration and help.

**Facility 545, the exam room -**

Trip found Kov in the exam room. It was a small, cold room, more than any other on the facility. Knowing that Vulcans didn't like cold or dark places due to their poor night vision and high body temperatures, he was amazed that Kov was holding up so well in this cold and gloomy place. When he entered the room, he found out that Kov was not only inventive when it came to engineering, but also in finding ways to make himself comfortable. Somehow, he had managed to obtain an electrical heater and placed it in one corner of the room. The pleasant temperature in the room was a warm surprise. Kov was checking the contents of the navigation system and taking notes on a PADD. He didn't seem to be surprised to see Trip this early in the morning or at his offer to help him with his work.

Trying to find answers about his dreams and T'Pol, he began to ask Kov about his fiancée and if he ever missed her. Judging from his reaction – he saw before his eyes Kov's typically expressive face close him out – it made Kov uncomfortable and Trip didn't expect an response.

To his surprise Kov did answer. "Missing a person is an overwhelming emotion, Surak tells us. The best way is to suppress this emotion. I found this advice to be very wise. Missing a person can be very disturbing and disruptive, especially when there is no respite". He knew it was a great admission when Kov added, "I know this from personal experience."

T'Pol had sent mixed signals during their conversation three weeks ago – they both could win a prize for miscommunication. So he asked Kov's opinion about T'Pol's remarks she made back then. "But what if a person tells you that she misses us, you sometimes, but most of the time she's suppressing it?" Trip cut right to the chase.

Kov was puzzled. "If that person was Vulcan, it would mean that the attachment was very strong or that she was having trouble maintaining her control. Or both."

Trip couldn't help himself, feeling his face break into a smile, triggered by this description of T'Pol. There was hope after all.

His smile caused Kov to say,"That is no laughing matter, Trip. Control, even to experience emotions is necessary for a Vulcan."

He reassured Kov and in return Kov offered his friendship and willingness to listen to him if he wanted to. So he told Kov about his dreams.

Kov concluded that he was influenced by a Vulcan. "Do you have headaches, nausea, pain in your neck, sweating?" Kov almost sounded like a doctor.

He recognized the symptoms. "All of them. I also... Sometimes I feel really hungry, but it's not my stomach that's protesting."

"You share the feeling of physical needs. That's natural. The symptoms are clear. You are bonded."

_The bond can't be functioning_, Trip thought. "But I haven't felt the bond in over a year! I mean, I don't know if she cut me off, or the place they sent her to was the cause, but we aren't bonded anymore."

"You still are. Bonds do not just fade away," Kov said. "But why do you think she cut you off and which certain place are you talking about?"

Trip hesitated. It was better to tell the whole story. "She has been in Lethizeh in U'tal Province." Officially known as Correction and Rehabilitation Facility Lethizeh. He hated that name.

"Commander T'Pol has been sent to Lethizeh?"

Then Kov answered his most important question. "Then your assumption is correct. Blocking any telepathic avenues, especially the bond, is standard procedure in Vulcan prisons."

Trip still didn't know what he felt in response. Relief? Vindication that he was right all along?

He had found nothing in the database about Vulcan prisons that helped him. He knew the bond was a topic Vulcans didn't talk about, but he couldn't imagine that they would be so cruel as to block telepathic avenues, including the bond. He asked Kov for an explanation.

"The purpose of imprisonment is punishment and rehabilitation. Both things can only be done alone, with no help from others. Not even bond mates. It is simply done by a blocking device, usually worn around the neck," Kov said.

"With no blocking device, the bond restores itself?"

Kov contemplated for half a minute. "My knowledge of how a bond works is limited, but I think that would be a logical assumption. Because of the dreams, I assume Commander T'Pol isn't wearing her device anymore, which means she was released from Lethizeh. But in spite of you being her bond mate, you aren't together. Here my logic is failing me."

Trip hesitated to tell Kov anything so private, but he really could use someone who would listen to him. "T'Pol and I have known each other for 5 years now. Our relationship has been strained in the past, partly because T'Pol's choices have been based on what she thinks Vulcan society expects from her. She once said that our universe wasn't ready for us. When we found out that we were bonded, we were happy to be together. Soon after that, T'Pol told me something about her past. I became angry with her and we had a big fight. Then we lost someone very precious to both of us..."

His voice became unsteady, but when he saw the look of sympathy on Kov's face, he proceeded.

"We grieved together. Starfleet started an investigation into the organization behind all this, a group called Terra Prime." He spoke their name with disgust.

"Everybody was questioned, every item that belonged to Terra Prime investigated. They also found that Terra Prime had obtained classified material. In one of those, it became clear that T'Pol had violated both Vulcan military and Starfleet regulations and put the crew in danger. You know how tense the relationship between Vulcan and Earth is at this moment and how much strain there is on the Coalition. If this became public, enemies of the Coalition would use it as sabotage and the alliance would implode. The Vulcan authorities stepped in and said..."

"Her crimes must be judged in military court," Kov said, completing his sentence. "As with any other military officer. The justice system is quite clear about this."

"And it also helped Starfleet keep their hands clean. T'Pol is judged and she paid for her offenses, so Starfleet and the Vulcan authorities can't be accused of shoving it under the rug or showing favoritism. They kept it quiet, because of course they didn't want to fuel the situation. So one fateful morning I woke up to find T'Pol gone. The captain told me the Vulcan authorities had taken T'Pol into custody."

Trip took a deep breath, recalling memories of that day. When he tried to call T'Pol, at least to say good-bye, he hit a wall. A wall named the Starfleet Liaison for Vulcan Affairs. She had told him plainly that as a co-worker he had no right whatsoever to talk or visit T'Pol. In light of how many hours Internal Affairs spent frying them about their relationship, that was Starfleet's bitter irony at its best. If he didn't think Earth needed Starfleet so badly to survive or he needed his job to stay sane...

"After that day, I had no contact with T'Pol for more than a year," he recounted. "The only sign from her, was a small package I received. It's a medallion with a circle and triangle as decoration, that used to be her father's."

He thought of the time he opened the package and saw his hands trembling slightly, taking T'Pol's medallion, her father's IDIC, out of the box. He kept it as a sweet memory.

"A _da ek'zuru_," Kov recognized the Vulcan jewelery. "You have the _da ek'zuru_ of minister Karik?" Trip heard the admiration and respect in Kov's voice when speaking the name of T'Pol's father. He must have been a man of importance.

"T'Pol used to tell me we are like a circle and triangle," Trip explained the meaning of the gift. He remembered understanding her gesture when she hung the medallion on the crib of their little girl in sickbay, and the time he had felt the chain of the medallion between their fingers, when they were holding hands, the first time they mourned together.

"Differences makes us strong," Kov understood.

After T'Pol left, there were only lonely days. He didn't feel the bond. In fact he felt little at all. What made matters worse, were the rumors that T'Pol dumped him or worse used him, and he saw pity in the eyes of people he met. A few people gloated behind his back. He was surrounded by people who thought they were separated. They were. Literally. For one year he was dangling between hope and fear.

"It was a horrible year, when T'Pol was gone," he told Kov. "Then I found out that Captain Archer had been informed that she'd been released, but T'Pol hadn't contacted me."

His hope was dashed. He had wondered if his greatest fear had come true. Every time T'Pol and he were together, he was really happy, before another complication inevitably separated them. Eventually, his desire to understand came to an end.

"The first time I saw her again, was three weeks ago," Trip continued.

"You saw her again?" Kov asked. From his response Trip knew 'his logic was failing him' again.

"I visited Starfleet Headquarters and when I returned, a fellow crew member – now researching new models of shuttle pods – offered me to bring me to the space station. We had another passenger, T'Pol."

He expected more questions, but Kov stayed silent. Still he felt the need to explain."So I haven't heard a word from her in a year. I know now it was because the bond was blocked, but why talk to Archer first? I thought maybe her time in prison had made her believe she had to be all green Vulcan again, as some kind of penance with no room for me anymore. It happened before. And then, when I saw her again for the first time, she asked me if I ever missed our relationship. Does she know how long it's been? So I mutter something like 'sometimes', she tells me she misses me, but suppressed it – giving me no clue whatsoever – and that's she afraid now that we have different assignments, we'll lose touch. On top of that, Travis – our pilot – is listening to our conversation and he is Mister Gossip. I know we always have a connection, but what does she want from me?"

Kov tried to find an answer. "The changes of you both taking the same shuttle pod by accident are very limited. I think she wants the same thing as you. I know I have not much knowledge about relationships and women seemed to have their own kind of logic. But the bond..."

"The bond isn't some magic thing what makes everything right, Kov," he interrupted angrily.

"I don't think it's magic," Kov reacted. "The bond is unique and it says something. That your both want to be together. In Vulcan society, if you go your own way, you risk being an outcast. You always pay a price. The bond is above that, Trip, because you form a family of your own. The bond is seen much like humans see... marriage. You asked me about the visions, dreams that are not yours. I do not know your dreams, but they are telling you Commander T'Pol's state of mind. The condition of her heart. The things she thinks about. Is that helpful?"

Kov reasoning made him think. Trip took a chair, sat down and looked at the device he was working on. It had a small warning sign and he concentrated on the green light.

In his mind he remembered T'Pol in those 5 years behind him, lighting up his day when she looked at him with amusement, challenging his thinking, how she comforted him with small gestures of support while they were grieving, how he could feel her warmth, and her soft skin against his and smell her fragrance, when she kissed him. He was reminded of T'Pol in the shuttle pod, her hair resplendent with chestnut streaks, dressed in blue. She was reaching out to him. It was no coincidence that she had been on the same shuttle as him to travel from Earth to the space station. She had planned it.

He thought of the dreams and memories of T'Pol he had received and suddenly he found him self listening to the story she was telling him. Hearing the song she had been listening in her own native tongue _Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh, Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh_...

Commander? Commander Tucker? What have you done to him?"

As if in a fog, Trip heard a female voice that pulled him out of his dream. Someone had grabbed him by the shoulder and was shaking him. He opened his eyes, feeling completely rested and at peace. He looked into the blue eyes of Anna Hess. She looked worried.

"Are you alright, sir? You looked kind of spaced out and Kov over there," with an angry nod at him, "didn't do a thing about it," Anna said.

Anna had surprised him last year by marrying Gus Robertson from the language department, and now happily pregnant with her first child. Starfleet wasn't very happy with either development, even blamed Anna for taking the job without telling them about the pregnancy and questioning her abilities to handles things. She was kind of bitter about it. But he still envied her.

"I'm fine, Anna," he replied, "I was just deep in thought."

Anna didn't look as if she believed him. "You're sure?"

"Yes. So what are you doing here this early?"

"I could ask you the same thing, sir," said Anna, who relaxed when she saw that he was alright. "I was looking for you. Starfleet command wants to talk to you. Shall I pass the message through to this location?"

"Have you been looking for me for a long time?"

Anna smiled. "Just enough time to make Captain Archer a bit antsy." Anna liked to irritate Archer. It was a bit of a mean streak in her.

Normally he would have responded by reminding Anna that Archer was still her commanding officer, but Starfleet protocol was the last thing on his mind. "Well, don't keep him waiting. You can pass him on to this location."

Anna left and Trip turned to Kov, who had resumed his work. "How long was I gone?"

"A good meditation never did hurt any one."

"Kov...," he pleaded.

"32 Earth minutes." Kov paused, looked at him and said, "Did you find your answer?"

He remembered Kov's question about T'Pol's state of mind. "Kov, what does _Dahshaya-tor herbosh_ mean?"

Kov looked at bit confused, then he understood. '_Dahshaya-tor nam-tor herbosh_'. It's a famous line from H'nas... But you're not interested in Vulcan poems. A good translation would be: _Separated, I am empty_."

It was a good description how he had felt. _She feels exactly what I've been feeling this entire year_, Trip thought. _That the world is a dark, lonely, empty place without each other. Longing to be together, but always separated_. He suddenly wanted to be left alone to sort out his thoughts, but the sound of an incoming message made him focus on more pressing matters. Trip cleared his mind and put the screen on.

An angry Captain Archer looked back at him. "You've been taking your time. Your second in command didn't know where you were!"Archer snapped. "We've lost contact with one of our colonies. Starfleet has ordered the _Enterprise_ launched again to investigate the attack. You are ordered to come back to Earth. We are at war."


	7. Chapter 6 TripKov Back to Earth

**The Captives**

**Chapter 6 Kov and Trip – Back to Earth**

**Disclaimer:** Enterprise and it's characters are propriety of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line:** Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary:** During a conversation between Kov and Trip, a message from Starfleet comes through. Contact with one of Earth's colonies has been lost and Captain Archer orders Trip back to Earth, stating Earth is at war.

**Author's note:** Many thanks to my beta, KKGlinka

**Facility 545, the exam room **

We are at war." The dark look on Captain Archer's face matched his grim words. "In these kind of times, swift communication is essential. Don't keep me waiting next time." Captain Archer must have been waiting for a while before Anna found Trip and put the message from Starfleet through on the computer.

"Captain, it's very early in the morning here and I already started my shift without Hess knowing," Trip explained.

Archer dropped the matter and continued with his message. "The entire crew of _Enterprise_ is being called back and we're leaving dry-dock in three days. _Columbia_ already been sent there and both ships are assigned to investigate." Archer's voice sounded as if he had drinking coffee all day and hadn't a minute of rest.

"Which colony has been under attack and what's the evidence that the Romulans are involved?"

"I can't give you any details now, Trip. You'll hear more in three days. Just report to HQ."

"What about the research team?"

"I'm sure Hess will do a good job taking over. With that exception, relay these orders to the other crew members at the facility."

"And transport?" he asked.

"A Tellarite ship at Space Dock 1588 will transport you to Earth. If you leave in five hours by shuttle, you'll be in time to meet them. Your contact is Captain Vark. The ship is called Berket. You better start informing the crew members."

"Yes, sir," he replied. "See you in a couple days, Captain."

"Good," Archer said. "One more thing, Trip, I heard that you have a good Vulcan engineer on your team. Starfleet have been pressing me to put a Vulcan on the ship, so we can pretend we're one happy Coalition. Even Soval is pushing for it and we need replacements now that Hess is leaving _Enterprise_.

He was surprised. "What about that Swedish women, Lieutenant Thott? I thought you had her lined up as one of the new personnel."

"They're both good," Archer interrupted. "'Is there any chance I could speak with this engineer before you leave?"

"Well, have a look." He gestured toward Kov.

Kov had heard the entire conversation. He headed toward the screen. "Captain Archer," Kov greeted. "It is good to see you again."

Archer didn't expect to see Kov so soon. "Did we meet before? I heard you're a very skilled engineer. Starfleet seemed very impressed by your findings."

Kov didn't agree. "It was very hard to find anything, except from some ancient Vulcan and Andorian texts without any logic. The basic engineering is the same as what we've seen before. Nothing revealing."

"So I'm told by my chief engineer. Still, one day we're going crack the code. Like I said, I could use a good engineer and a Vulcan on _Enterprise_. It's a good opportunity for you, to serve on the best warp ship we have and it's good for the relations between Earth and Vulcan. What do you think?"

"I am sorry, Captain. I think I will be more useful advancing the relations between our people here. But I am honored that you did consider ..."

"Fine," Archer cut him off. "That would be all."

Trip thought the captain was acting impulsively by asking someone he hardly knew to join the crew. _Shouldn't the captain be asking him first, considering Kov wasn't a Starfleet officer and _**he**_ was in charge of Engineering, before making any changes in the engineering crew?_ He was rude to Kov, too.

Kov seemed not to mind. Before Archer could end the transmission, he said "Captain, there is a solution for your problem. She has served you very well for years and is very capable. And she is Vulcan. I am sure Commander T'Pol …."

Archers face darkened, before he spit out, "That's no longer an option. Good night, gentlemen. Archer out."

After the abrupt ending of his transmission, Trip apologized to Kov and started to wake up the members of the crew and informing them of the fact that in a couple of hours they would be in the shuttle, heading to Earth and _Enterprise_ He was always proud of the professional way members of the crew handled these kind of situations.

He went to Anna and talked her though the procedures and things on his to-do list, before he went to his cabin to gathers his belongings. He was almost finished with his packing, when he stopped to look around the quarters that had been his home for some time.

_I'm going back to Enterprise_," he thought. As far as he knew, the deal was that T'Pol would return to _Enterprise_ as well, after her imprisonment, so he was confused about Archer's remark that she wasn't. Were there as yet unrevealed problems? In the good old times, when Jon was still a happy explorer, he would have shared those difficulties with him. They had drifted apart and Archer's choice to follow Starfleet rules in the time leading to T'Pol imprisonment only made it worse.

However, looking back, Trip wondered what **he** could have done more to prevent T'Pol's fate. A year back, he was so grief-stricken, drained by the hours of investigation, dealing with T'Pol's emotions as well, that he'd had a hard time thinking straight. Everything went by so fast. But Trip realized with sudden clarity that far too often he had let people, circumstances, even insecurities and fear lead his and T'Pol's lives. Not anymore.

A small knock on the door made him aware he had a visitor. It was Kov. He was distracted by the small object that his visitor had brought with him, the Vulcan game of Kal'toh.

"Guess you didn't bring that to play a game, did you?" he asked.

"I would like to give it as a gift, as a token of our friendship." Kov handled handed him the game set. "I also have put some information I found about the Vulcan bond on a PADD from my personal library. You will need to translate it, but it may be useful."

Staring at the little rods of the game and placing the Kal'toh on his table, he expressed his gratitude. "Thank you, for the information and for this game. Maybe someday we'll play it together."

Kov agreed and gave a quick look around his quarters. His eyes fell on a very Vulcan object and when Trip saw the interest in Kov's eyes, he gave the medallion to Kov.

Kov gently stroked the IDIC with his thumb and turned it around to read the small Vulcan script on the back. "You know, many Vulcans would give anything just to hold this _da ek'zuru_. It's a precious gift. Minister Karik was a great Vulcan and he is still admired by many."

Until their conversation in the exam room, Trip hadn't realized that T'Pol's father was well known among his people. "He seems to be quite famous."

"Minister Karik was a great example for my people. He had some provoking ideas, but he always put Vulcan and Vulcans first and gave special attention to the lower and middle classes. He saved many lives during several wars. His death was tragic in multiple ways." Kov showed Trip the front of the medallion. "Here you can see, this is really minister Karik's _da ek'zura_. Each one is unique in its setting of the circle and triangle; this uses the setting that forms the word _Karik_. See ..."

Kov pointed to the middle of the medallion where the circle and triangle met. "Circle and triangle, opposites, female and male, together they create strength. _Karik_ means strength in Vulcan." Drawing with his finger in the air he continued, "Circle, triangle, flat line with three small circles above them. It means men, women, home and storm, the Vulcan sign for affection. I always found ancient writing fascinating."

Staring at the circle and triangle of the medallion Kov said, "It reminds me of the texts we have found in the Romulan ship. I have studied many aspects of the ship and never in my life have I found so many old hand writings. Different Human, Vulcan, Andorian, Tellarite ones. Stories with no connection. It is like they just put their library into the database of the ship."

Trip shrugged. He was frustrated and irritated about the progress of the research. "I think the Romulans know we want to get our hands on as much information as we can and they just drowned us in useless and misleading drivel. It's their obnoxious way of giving us the finger."

"They want to make an emotional connection?" Kov was confused.

It took Trip a moment to understand how Kov had been thrown off track, but then he recalled the far more intimate Vulcan gesture. "No, it's just a human expression of … that you don't like someone."

"So it's like if they wanted to say to us they know everything about us and our history, but we don't know anything about them," Kov rephrased.

"You make it sound kind of scary," Trip said. Sometimes Kov was too clever for his own good. He had put the fears that were in the back of his mind into words.

Kov pondered aloud. "Which makes the coalition between our species that much more important. When one of our previous wars came to an end, we realized we had lost many of our previous allies. That's why we made contact with Earth."

"I thought the Vulcans made first contact, because we had warp technology." Trip was genuinely surprised. He had always heard and believed the story about first contact. Other than that silly story that really had made him laugh about T'Pol's nephew L'Tok being "quite unwell" after drinking Zefram Cochrane's booze, T'Pol hadn't told him anything else either.

"I don't think we were that noble," Kov replied and looking at the medallion once more he added, "We lost many good men in that war. War is horrible and the enemies we face even more. The Romulans are no better. They are very good at enlisting evil men. I have heard that Tolaris is working for them."

Trip was shocked to hear his name and the old hatred against Tolaris came to life again. "Suits that piece of scum. Is that the reason why you're helping Starfleet?"

Kov's eyes moved from ornament to his face. "It is one of them. I hardly know anything about the military or politics, but the Romulans are a threat to every race that wants to live a peaceful life. We can't afford to give them the upper hand. Not only the research of the ship made me wonder. When Starfleet told me about the discovery of the ship, there was something odd about it. I think the ship is a diversion. We are looking in the wrong place. If our enemy's plan is to obtain information – like any enemy would do - they will go to the source. To Starfleet Headquarters on Earth."

He hated to admit it, but as T'Pol would say, Kov's logic was very convincing. "You're right, there is something strange going on. I'll keep an eye on every possibility."

"Thank you. A safe journey, Trip."

"Thanks for everything. Thanks for the great gift. If there's anything I could do for you," Trip said, thinking very hard of a present that he could give Kov. He had been a true friend.

To his surprise Kov said there was something he could do. "Could you be so kind as to send this letter to a Vulcan address? It's encrypted and she has to send a secured message back to a specific address. She will know what to do. But I can't send it from this facility, because of the security regulations."

Trip took Kov's second PADD with mild curiosity. "She? Maybe a nice old fiancée?" he teased Kov.

The top of his ears became a little green, but other then that Kov kept his cool. "I would be grateful if you would deliver it."

"Okay, I will. But you better invite me to your wedding," he said, tapping with his finger on the precious PADD.

"In the improbable event that that would happen, you are most welcome and if **you** get married, I would be grateful to help with the arrangements. My nephew is a priest and very good in at preforming weddings."

In response to any other person, he would have snapped, but the conversations with Kov had given him hope. Hope that he hadn't felt in a long time. So he replied with a hint of the same humor, "Well, according to you I'm already married. So in the unlikely occasion I got married with vows and a priest, you will be my best man."

With those words, both friends departed and Trip left for Earth.

**Translation of Vulcan words**

Da ek'zuru – medallion (from da-kuv - circle and ek'zuru – necklace)


	8. Chapter 7 Archer The investigation

**The Captives**

**Chapter 7 Archer – The investigation **

**Disclaimer:** Enterprise and it's characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

This chapter starts a few days before Archer's call to Trip in chapter 5.

**Summary: **Oneof Earth's colonies has been attacked and Captain Archer has ordered Trip back to Earth. This chapter is from Archer's point of view and occurs a couple of days earlier.

**Author's note: **Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka

**San Francisco, Starfleet Headquarters –**

**He looked at the woman sitting opposite of him. She had long, curly, blond hair that fell gently beside her pretty face. Her blue eyes were shining with a joy for life and she smiled with a set of pearly perfect teeth. Her whole pose was charming, from the almost musical tone of her voice, pronouncing her English with a soft Swedish accent down to the way she was dressed in nicely fitted clothes with fashionable boots.**

During the interview he noticed again that she was smart, intelligent and very capable in engineering. She had finished her studies cum laude at the University of Grådamma in Stockholm and had a degree in astronomics. She had plenty of relevant working experience. To make the picture perfect, she came from a European country, a bit of diversity Starfleet lacked in its ranks.

She even looked like the woman he imagined when he was young and his mother red read him his favorite poem: _The song of the Wandering Aengus_. So there was not a single reason to dislike her.

But he did. He just hated her from the moment he saw her blond hair and shiny blue eyes. It was a dislike he couldn't explain. But he hid it well. He wasn't fool enough to let her go.

He looked at her chart. Miss Rianna Olovsdotter Thott. Born in Hammersta, Sweden. "So, Miss Tot," he began to say. He knew he said her name wrong. She hadn't corrected him, but already it irritated him. "I am happy to inform you, you passed all the tests with flying colors. On behalf of the crew: Welcome aboard the_ Enterprise_. Your rank will be Lieutenant Junior Grade, based on your previous experience. Commander Tucker, the chief engineer is not in San Francisco, but Lieutenant Kelby will lead the introduction course."

He gave her the PADD with all the instructions. "If you have any questions, just contact him."

"It will be an honor to serve with you, Captain Archer and with the rest of the crew," Lieutenant Thott answered, taking the PADD. She gave him a lovely smile. He noticed his whole body tensed in response to her friendliness, but it was her almost hypnotic blue eyes that made him very nervous.

"Thank you," he said to end the conversation and Thott, understanding his hint, stood up and left with an adieu.

He closed the door behind her, taking a moment alone in his office at Starfleet Headquarters. He went to the window. He had a great view of the ocean, but no clear blue waters shown this day; a gray fog dimmed the horizon.

The gray day suited his mood. He felt more than tired. All his bones were aching. He walked toward his desk. He should get some work done, never mind his restless night. He wasn't really helping himself by procrastinating. He noticed that lately he stayed up late and postponed his bedtime every night.

His pacing was interrupted by his secretary, Janine Grey.

"I got you some tea, Captain," she said, opening the door with her foot and holding a cup of steaming tea in her hand. "I mailed you Thott's application report. We're still waiting for some additional documents."

She put the tea on his desk and looked at him. "Headache, sir? I can get you some aspirin if you wish."

He thanked her for the tea and said that he was okay. He didn't realize how he looked until he went to the bathroom and saw his pallor and puffy eyes. Janine must have thought he had a hang-over. It felt that way, but he hadn't touched his bourbon for a long time. He had no one to share it with.

He worked 'til five, until another boring workday had come to an end. He traveled home thinking that if he spent another week being a paper pusher for Starfleet Headquarters, he was going to look for another job. He wanted to be back in space, doing the only job he really wanted as captain of a Starship.

The repair and refitting of the ship was almost complete. The reorganization of Starfleet was going well and their enemies were out there. Why was Starfleet waiting?

He watched water polo, while eating Chinese. He was debating how to answer Hensenius Black. Black had sent an email yesterday, concerning the situation with T'Pol. Black had supported him throughout the years. He didn't think he got the job because he was Henry Archer's son like some others in Starfleet Command, which meant a lot to him, being annoyed by the suggestion alone. He activated his communication terminal, went to the messages sent through the secure channel, and read Black's letter again.

"Jon,

I just finished reading your list of personnel for _Enterprise. _Iknow that crew appointment is the captain's prerogative and choice, but I would like to express my opinion.

I noticed that you put Commander Tucker as second in command and Lieutenant Commander Reed as third. I don't question the abilities of both men, but this is not what we agreed upon with the Vulcans. I want to bring this to your attention, also because you, as Captain, were partially responsible for the situation.

I cannot express how important it is for Earth at this time - when we are at the threshold of war - to do our utmost to maintain a good relationship with Vulcan. We hope that Vulcan would support us in the likely event of war and I am telling you nothing new that they have far more ships than us. We have only a small fleet and a lot of untrained Boomers.

We would be fools to allow this to alienate us from our allies, just because we refuse to stick to a deal, which helped us in the first place. In addition, Ambassador Soval has strongly suggested placing Commander T'Pol back on _Enterprise _after the matter was done. People will explain her absence from Starfleet in terms of her needing time to recuperate from her prolonged exposure to Humanity on Vulcan, but it would only cause more unpleasant rumors if she didn't return to _Enterprise_.

My years of experience cause me to believe that despite the investigation, I don't have all the facts, nor am I demanding them. But I will say that Commander T'Pol was a Starfleet officer by your choice and I assume you had good reason for it. Regardless of our sincere need to retain the Vulcans as our allies, along with the other Coalition members, Starfleet has done its level best to stand on its own two feet. It's hard to claim we were doing that when we hung her out to dry. On a personal note, I think it's a very human thing to give people a second chance, a cultural practice we might share with the Vulcans. I know I was happy I got one. I have spoken to many in Starfleet Command and they are leaning toward pardoning T'Pol and reinstating her rank of Commander, if you're willing to take her back on as your executive officer. I think we'd all be happy to have this unpleasant matter diplomatically resolved.

With Regard,

Admiral Hensenius Black, SFC

Jon had received messages like these this before, from admirals with different plans for T'Pol, but also from admirals like Black, who wanted to stick to the deal. Th deal was made a year ago, when Arling from Internal Affairs investigated what what appeared to be an unprecedented case of fraternization between two senior officers. Arling also uncovered something else that had changed T'Pol's life for the last year.

With three simple clicks, Archer retrieved his logs from that time at his computer and while reading, he once again experienced that one fateful day.

**Starfleet Headquarters, 10 days after the events of Terra Prime -**

He was standing in a room within the Department of Internal Affairs, a couple of minutes before a new investigation meeting would start. After the events of Terra Prime, Starfleet Internal affairs and Starfleet Intelligence had searched through every book, picture, notebook and computer file they could find. Every member of the crew was questioned, but the information they found led them to interrogate Trip and T'Pol most intensively.

There had already been several gatherings and as captain of _Enterprise _he had been asked to join this one, together with Doctor Phlox. He was early and so was the Denobulan. It was deliberate, because Phlox wanted to talk with him.

"Captain, I understand the need for Starfleet to gather as much information as possible about Terra Prime, but as a doctor it's my opinion that too much strain is being put on Commanders Tucker and T'Pol. They are both grieving and in a very emotionally fragile state."

"They seem to be doing alright, doctor. They went to the conference afterward and gave their speeches. They are professionals and trained to work under stress."

Phlox refuted him. "Commander T'Pol left the minute she could in an abrupt manner. A clear sign for someone who knows her as I do and I have spoken with Commander Tucker about the conference. He hardly remembered being there."

"I already planned to give them some time off, after the investigation," he reassured Phlox. "I know this is a difficult time for them, but I am confident they will manage. The worst thing that could happen now is that Starfleet places them on different ships." In truth, he thought that to be the best option.

Phlox didn't react to his reply, because Lieutenant Arling and his assistant from Internal Affairs entered the room, together with Trip and T'Pol. With Phlox's remarks fresh in his mind, he observed the couple more closely.

T'Pol was still dressed in her Vulcan robe, which she had wrapped around her as if it were a shield. She was silent and withdrawn, sadness radiating from her eyes. T'Pol's posture was still straight as any other Vulcan's, but it lacked the conviction that he had seen in the past.

Trip looked tired. His tight gaze told the story of sorrow, aggravated by political stress.

He had always been amused by the way Trip and T'Pol danced around each other, but he had a hard time understanding where they were stood in terms of a relationship. Maybe they didn't know either. Jon had figured out that they probably had been involved in the past, an assumption that was confirmed by the investigation. The team had found pictures of Trip and T'Pol, taken by Terra Prime. He remembered staring at the picture of his two officers kissing each other passionately on the beach and being surprised by T'Pol's behavior. He concluded their relationship was a summer love, that ended badly.

He assumed that it was taking Trip and T'Pol awhile to be just friends again and to realize that only friendship was possible between them. They were friends, but sometimes he saw a glimmer of more. Something he couldn't explain. Like the time in sickbay, when Trip and T'Pol were united in the care for the child. He looked at them, and saw how they seemed to understand each other without words, like they had formed a world of their own. He had felt like an outsider.

Right now they were sitting next to each other, as always. When Arling rose to talk, he noticed Trip give T'Pol a smile of encouragement. She relaxed at bit. Her whole demeanor softened when she looked back.

Arling was a balding, blond and skinny man in his thirties. His brown eyes perceived the world around him with a critical eye, needed if you worked in Internal Affairs. His mission was to find the truth and this time the real story behind Terra Prime. What a ugly truth it was.

"Terra Prime's main theme was keeping Earth pristine for Humans. Aliens were not to be trusted, because they could grow to have too much power on Earth, like the Vulcans." Arling began his recap of the investigation.

"Aliens might attack Earth, like the Xindi, even occupy it by force. The last thing was the goal of every alien species, according to Terra Prime. Starfleet and the governments of Earth supporting the presence of alien species didn't see the danger and handed Earth on a platter to every alien. Discovering something they had long feared, that a Human would become romantically involved with a alien, was the biggest threat because it came from within, the beginning of mixing Humans with abnormal species." Arling summarized.

With more emotion in his voice he continued, "In my opinion being truly Human encompasses the values we share and the thinking that makes us uniquely human. Not our genetic make-up."

After a short pause Arling went on, "Fear of tainting our genetic purity, what was unique to Humanity made Terra Prime start a propaganda-war, mixing information they had gathered about Commanders Tucker and T'Pol with slander, fear mongering and false information. Some of these stories were ridiculous, like the one that Commander Tucker has a mental hook in his brain, which makes him obey Vulcan mind control. In my opinion, the child was part of a plan to discredit Starfleet, being a symbol of the dreaded inter-species mixing and the so-called alien take-over. It also gave Terra Prime an opportunity to make headlines. Starfleet has done its best to dismantle the organization, but false information is hard to stop."

Phlox cut through the silence that followed. "So the child was used as a ploy to sow political unrest."

T'Pol said compassionately, "They didn't care about her wellbeing."

"Who cares what they think, T'Pol," Trip responded, "She was important to us and that's all that should matter."

Arling waved them to be silent. "Regarding our investigation of Commander Tucker and T'Pol, it's clear they violated the regulations regarding non-fraternization. Those are in place for a reason. After Starfleet command deals with this final matter, the books can be closed."

Trip looked quickly to T'Pol. She was holding a data padd with both hands firmly and she looked paler then normal. Trip turned to Arling and said "Finally. So, basically we're free to go. Goodbye gentlemen."

Before he could put his words into action, Arling interjected, "Not so fast, Commander. There is one more issue that needs to be resolved, because it could stir up a more dangerous amount of trouble for the Coalition in the future."

Trip dropped back in his chair. Head slightly bent, staring at the table, a frown on his face. Then he asked Arling permission for a short break. Arling granted them five minutes. In those five minutes, he and Phlox checked their notes. In the corner of his eye, Jon saw Trip and T'Pol turn to each other. They didn't touch or speak, only looked at each other, as if seeking comfort that way. He saw T'Pol release her grip on the datapadd, placing it on the table and Trip's posture grew less rigid.

Arling reopened the meeting by handing doctor Phlox a PADD. "Terra Prime has obtained classified information that they intended to use in their propaganda. Could you please identify this material?"

Phlox looked at the PADD and for the first time since Jon had known the smiling doctor, he turned pale. "It's a copy of both commanders' medical files. It's highly classified. This is a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality. You can't use this information."

"On the contrary, Doctor, the files are property of Starfleet and can be used as we see fit, especially when part of a legal investigation. These were copied from the your medical database, the same day the DNA-samples were stolen. We have reason to believe a person of the Medical Department is responsible," Arling remonstrated.

"There is nothing in that file that Terra Prime can use," Trip objected.

"Not your file, however much they found the cloning-story intriguing. It was Commander T'Pol's file that got their interest. Doctor, in February 2154, Commander T'Pol was the acting captain during the Xindi attack in the Expanse, when Captain Archer was on Azati Prime. Is it your professional opinion that she was capable of command at that time?"

All of a sudden, the whole atmosphere of the room changed. He saw shock in Phlox's eyes and Trip exchanged a worried look with T'Pol.

"Commander T'Pol was always a very capable officer," Phlox answered.

"Regardless of her medical condition?"

"Her medical condition... I admit that at that time Commander T'Pol was suffering from an illness. The environment in the Expanse made it worse. After she was brutally attacked on a telepathic level, she was in some degree of shock..."

Arling interrupted, taking the doctor's lead, and asked him to elaborate. "Other people were attacked by the woman Rajiin as well. Did they experience the same symptoms?"

Phlox knew the direction Arling was heading. "They were similar, but Vulcans are naturally more resistant to telepathic assault. In my opinion, the severity of her symptoms indicated pointed malice on Rajiin's part."

"You stated in your report that you were surprised she was attacked in the first place."

"Yes, because Rajiin needed the information for creating a biological weapon against Humans, based on their blood types. So why attack a genetically dissimilar alien? To begin with, Vulcan blood is copper based."

Arling nodded as if he were satisfied with his answers, then shifted his attention. "Captain Archer, you stated in your report that you thought that Rajiin was forced to attack the crew in order to gather information, thereby acting under duress. At any point, did she state or otherwise indicate that she was seeking asylum?"

"I stand by my report, Lieutenant. In a way, she was a victim. We all deserve a second chance, but if you don't mind, I think we're getting side-tracked. Rajiin has nothing to do with Terra Prime."

"It was a interesting notion." Arling turned to Phlox. "One more question, Doctor, I wondered if Commander T'Pol suffered excessive or undue pain, because the cause of her illness was also a telepathic attack."

Trip didn't let the doctor answer. "Sorry, but do you really think it's necessary at this time to bring this up? T'Pol has been through enough lately."

"I think you should let Lieutenant Arling do his job, Trip," Jon reprimanded Trip.

Trip gave him a disgruntled look. "Well, I object against his line of questioning, Captain."

Arling altered his course of interrogation. "Doctor, I would like a full report about the effects of the attack from every angle. But now to the aftermath of the attack. What happened next?"

Phlox looked to the other side of the table to T'Pol. She and Trip had been moving closer to each other. T'Pol gave Phlox a small nod and he continued.

"Commander T'Pol recovered, but she was in great pain. I had studied the effects of Trillium D on the crew and had noticed some elements helped alleviate extreme pain, especially the CX34T-component. I administered a medicine based on this component to Commander T'Pol. I explained that the medicine was a one time solution. Based on my observation of the _Seleya_'s crew, the compound is potentially addictive and mind-altering. I didn't want to take that risk, but T'Pol is a fully qualified scientist, and I came to my attention that she had. I helped her recover."

Jon was shocked. He looked at T'Pol as if seeing her for the first time. First her affair with Trip. Now this. Was anything he had believed about T'Pol true?

Arling proved his credentials, with the insight, "Then you were aware the substance was addictive. Our own laboratories have analyzed the compound as well, since this investigation began and preliminary findings suggest it may be immediately addictive upon initial exposure, at least, on Vulcan subjects. Upon your own further analysis, did you take into consideration that Commander T'Pol might have become addicted during her exposure to the base substance while aboard the _Seleya?_"

Phlox staggered. "I considered that option, but ruled it out. During my tenure on the _Enterprise_, crewmen were frequently exposed to volatile agents. The most I could ever do was check for potential ill effects, perform neurological scans and hope for the best. I did as much for T'Pol and all results came back normal. At the time of her examination, I saw no evidence of continued neuro-chemical imbalance, but yes, strictly speaking, it's possible."

Arling came back to his original question. "We know for sure that the component is like morphine. It takes away the pain, but it's also addictive and mind-altering. In her medical report, you stated that she confessed that the drug was affecting her. So I repeat my question, do you think Commander T'Pol was, at that time, capable of commanding _Enterprise_? Remember, she took command in a battle situation that ended in the death of 15 crewmen."

Phlox hesitated. "Lieutenant, I can't medically determine that without a long-term double-blind study of the drugs effect on Vulcan subjects. While she demonstrated some emotional instability, due to environmental stresses, I did not believe it was any greater than that of her fellow crewmen. I saw no reason to assume at the time that the compound possessed a mind-altering effect beyond a manageable addiction common to many legal pain medications. That's why I didn't report it."

"We feel differently," Arling said. "You described Commander T'Pol in your medical report as shaken, disturbed and emotional. Do you still agree with your observations?"

Phlox desperately tried to find a right answer. "She was emotional, yes."

"Is an emotional Vulcan, who admitted to you that the drugs affected her, normal or in control by even the standards of her own people?"

Phlox looked more uncomfortable by the minute. His smile was long gone. "I believe her control was less, but..."

Arling issued a litany of questions, first to Phlox and then to him, as Captain of _Enterprise_. Jon tried to defend T'Pol, she always been a good first officer, but his answers sounded weak.

After Arling had questioned him, he turned to Trip. "What about you, Commander Tucker, did you know about Commander T'Pol's addiction?"

"You should address me," T'Pol cut him off. "I will answer honestly. Commander Tucker was just recently informed. The doctor treated me in good trust. The Captain was unaware of the situation. I used the substance and I am fully responsible for my actions, Lieutenant and I accept any consequences or charges that may result."

Arling was not surprised by T'Pol reaction. "I was trying to get a medical view and the opinion of your fellow officers. With all the information we've gathered, we have reason to believe that you were under the influence of a mind-altering substance. I have no alternative but to report this to Starfleet Command."

Trip interjected, "She was a volunteer at that time. A Vulcan civilian. She wasn't really Starfleet. She wasn't a Vulcan liaison. She was responsible only to Captain Archer!"

Arling had a different point of view. "On the contrary, she received a field commission. Furthermore, she is a career officer who joined the Vulcan military many years ago. That's a lifetime commitment. She took an oath of duty and that solemn promise that is at stake, Commander."

T'Pol responded, "I take that oath very seriously, Lieutenant, but you cannot hold me accountable on that alone. Commander Tucker is correct. I resigned my commission as Subcommander."

"You submitted a request to High Command, but we double-checked on that. They never approved it. I regret to inform you but, as far as they're concerned, you were absent without leave."

"But..." T'Pol faltered.

"What?" Trip was blown away.

"This certainly would complicate things," Jon concluded. He heard Trip mumble something about bad luck never running out and the worst day of his life.

Phlox was the first to put everybody's thought into words. "So this means Commander T'Pol can be judged by Vulcan courts for actions take on Starfleet's behalf? This is very bad news, isn't Lieutenant? It doesn't look well for Commander T'Pol, I mean?" Phlox asked Arling.

"I can't predict the outcome, Doctor Phlox," Arling answered, "but yes, it does mean that Commander T'Pol falls under the jurisdiction of Vulcan military court." Then, with a few words, he closed the meeting, leaving all of them flabbergasted by the turn of events.

Jon didn't had get much time to think, because within a couple of hours of that interrogation, he was called to an emergency meeting. Senator Ellen Tenson, the Starfleet Liaison for Vulcan Affairs and Admiral Hensensius Black, who were informed, like the others in Starfleet Command, joined him.

Ellen Tenson was a woman in her fifties, a former assistant to president Samuels. Most noticeable about her was her red hair, with some gray streaks, that she wore in a bun. She was friendly, but Jon had already learned that Tenson always put the interest of Samuels and her vision of Starfleet first and her will was as tough as steel. Black, a man in his sixties, was his usual quiet self.

Tenson didn't mince words. "The current situation calls for swift action. On Earth anti-alien and anti-Vulcan sentiments are running high. Starfleet is under tremendous pressure. We can't have another scandal. Terra Prime was planning to spread the word that a crack-head Vulcan officer caused the death of 15 Humans under her command. Of course, people don't always believe Terra Prime, but what if some journalist starts to do his job and investigates this? What are we going to say? Yes, we know, she was taking drugs and shouldn't command the ship, but hey, we value our Vulcan relationship more than Human lives. We have rules, but the law doesn't apply to Vulcans working in Starfleet? There would be an outrage and rightly so. This could damage the Coalition beyond repair."

Jon tried to put things in a different light. He was shaken in his trust of T'Pol, but he remembered his mistakes in the Expanse too well. "Look, T'Pol always helped us in the past. She is a good officer. You must not forget, the Expanse took a toll on all of us. Beforehand, after discovering one of their lost ships we knew the Expanse could have terrible effects on Vulcans." And she had been the one to warn him, to advise him to leave her behind.

"But it was her choice to join the mission. Her decision," Tenson rebutted.

Before Jon could prepare a suitable argument, Admiral Black said, "I agree that we need to take these circumstances into consideration."

Tenson took the lead again. "The Chief Medical Officer, Captain and Commanders Tucker and T'Pol have been investigated by Internal Affairs. From what I've heard, we have a court martial in order," Tenson said with iron conviction. "After we finish that, we should release Commander T'Pol to the Vulcan Embassy. She is a Vulcan citizen and if this ever becomes public, we'll need to prove we did our best to offer a fair and honest trial for ever person in Starfleet, no matter what species, and that everyone is judged by the regulations of their home planet."

Tenson's main concern appeared that nobody outside should know about the situation, to avoid worsening the negative public opinion of Starfleet and the Coalition. To that end, she suggested creating a distraction, or like she told Jon and Black, "something the media can chew on, while they are kept in the dark about the real deal going on. I remember reading that Commander T'Pol admitted she broke up with Commander Tucker. It may seem crass, but people just love gossip, especially about a beautiful alien."

Admiral Black's eyes became dark. "Are you suggesting that we drag two good officers into the mud, so the media can have a field day? Wouldn't we be doing the same thing as Terra Prime did?"

"We do it for a good cause. The protection of the Coalition."

"And I am sure, Senator, Terra Prime is thinking their activities are for the good of humanity. If we use the same techniques, values as our enemy, what is the difference? Promise me, Senator, you will not go down this road."

Tenson gave Black her word.

As Tenson predicted, the combined result was a swift court martial. Phlox was charged with negligence, but as an exchange officer escaped formal penalty. Ultimately, Starfleet determined that he had done nothing wrong beyond permitting a busy senior officer to forestall regular medical examinations. Jon was cleared of any wrong-doing and Trip was deemed a victim of a mentally imbalanced superior officer. But T'Pol was dishonorably discharged on charges of not only fraternizing with a subordinate officer, but possession and use of a mind-altering substance.

Trellium wasn't a controlled substance on Earth so she hadn't broken any laws, nor was she a Earth citizen. As Ellen Tenson had urged, she was released to the Vulcan Embassy. Most officers Archer knew in Command had assumed the embarrassing matter finished. It hadn't been.

In the absence of Ambassador Soval, who attended some urgent family business on Vulcan, the embassy extradited T'Pol to Vulcan, where she endured a second military tribunal. From there the details were sketchy owing to the Vulcan's continuing secrecy toward internal matters.

The main reason to judge her from what Archer could gather, was that she was guilty of illogic somehow, involving laws based on Surak's teachings. Sometimes he wondered if her people even knew what the word logic meant. Of course, her past relationship with a Human, using a chemical substance and endangering the lives of the crew as their commanding officer all had play in her verdict. All his information and perhaps the residue of Surak's katra made him think she had been condemned due to her failure to demonstrate appropriate willpower and self-restraint, regardless of circumstance, in favor of personal indulgences. Whatever her sentence meant, it resulted in a twelve month prison term. He had thought it was probably a mere formality, a proverbial slap on the wrist just as Trip had received for conduct unbecoming an officer.

He had been so wrong. Back in the present, he tried to shake the horrible feeling he got thinking about the impact those past twelve months had made on T'Pol. Three weeks ago T'Pol was released. She had requested to speak with him concerning her future in Starfleet, probably the only place she could go.

T'Pol was a mere shadow of the woman he had left behind. He didn't know what they had done to her. He wasn't good at reading T'Pol or any Vulcan, but he never had seen her so... disturbed. She was acting odd, almost of out character. Like she was frozen in ice, a fury turned to stone, but unlike any Vulcan, her face was, in contrast to her actions, almost emotional.

He didn't know if there was room for T'Pol on the ship, because he hated the political hassle surrounding her. He didn't know if she could handle serving on a starship again and he had trouble with the idea of trusting her completely, like he used to do.

If only he could be an explorer again and things would return to normality.

Back in space on his own ship, he would be happy again and everything would be fine, like the good old times on _Enterprise_.


	9. Chapter 8 Archer and Rajiin

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 8**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place a year after Terra Prime (January 2155) in the beginning of the year 2156, the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **Archer works at Starfleet Headquarters while _Enterprise _is in dry dock. Trip was working on a retrieved Romulan ship at a distant facility in the Kajani-system while T'Pol was in prison. In this chapter, Archer makes the call to Trip, as seen in chapters 5 and 6, but from his point of view.

**Author's note: **Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka.

He was back on his ship. Stepping though the corridors, he was walking to his quarters. Just the thought of being in space again made him happy. The familiar surroundings of his cabin welcomed him. He looked through his window to see a big beautiful orange moon.

Sitting on his bunk as if she had always been there, he wasn't surprised to see her. The light of the moon shone on her curly blond hair. With a smile, she gestured for him to join her. She wrapped her arms around him and, leaning against her, he told her about his day. She listened with interest to all his stories. He felt his body relaxing, being in this location full of warmth and caring. This was the best place in the universe. He felt more at peace than he had been in a long time.

She whispered something and when he turned around to see Rajiin's face, he looked into her almost magnetic blue eyes. He expected to see the love and tenderness he had felt.

Her eyes were blue and cold as ice. There was not a single trait of emotion to be found.

He felt his throat become dry. A question dawned on him and escaped his lips, "What did you do with the colonist?"

Rajiin smiled and reassured him, "That's not your concern, Jonathan. Relax." She pushed him back on the bunk.

He felt paralyzed and then he heard beeping. His head felt heavy. His hands... He had wires attached to them. In panic, he pulled at the wires... With a shock he woke up anxious and sweating.

Jon went to his kitchen apartment to get a glass of water to take away the bad taste in his mouth, the familiar aftermath of these nightmares. He only had them a couple of times, but the day after such a dream left him on pins and needles. He had thought about talking with Phlox about his strange dreams, but the mere thought of Phlox probing into his personal life, never mind the memory of Phlox's suggestive smile when dealing with his relationships with women in the past, changed his mind.

His best option for someone to talk to was Erika Hernandez, his girlfriend for the last two years and captain of the starship _Columbia_. Erika was a good listener. She honestly told him if she disagreed, but he knew she cared for him. He usually wouldn't hesitate to tell her anything, but the situation was different now.

He had to wait until the next day to see Erika's sympathetic face again and settle the storm in his heart. She contacted him at Headquarters. He clung to her image like a drowning man to his lifebuoy.

He almost sighed when he spoke, "Erika, so glad to see your face," a sure sign he had missed her badly.

Erika smiled back, her eyes light up for a second. But almost instantly, Erika's face became serious. This was no social call. "Three days ago we received a distress call from a colony in the Dosa system, stating they were under attack. I'm not allowed to give you any more details right now. We'll try to reestablish contact, but all the lines are dead. It looks serious, Jon."

"A Romulan attack?"

"I think so. I asked Starfleet Command for back-up. They're probably going send _Enterprise _as well."

They talked for a half hour about the threat of war and the situation at Starfleet. Without realizing he was bringing a subject into the conservation he had tried to avoid, he told Erika about Black's message.

"Haven't they decided yet? They should've made their decision regarding Commander T'Pol quickly. Command is taking its time," Erika commented. "I wondered the other day, you never talk about her since she returned to Earth. How is she?"

He swallowed his dislike of sharing this with Erika. "It seemed to me like she had a pretty rough time on Vulcan, but T'Pol will manage. She always does."

"So she's working at Headquarters, in the Science Department?" Erika asked.

"No. Not really. I assigned her to a new science project on the Moon, but she resigned. From what I gathered, she has a part-time job writing articles for the Science Monitor, the Department's chief publication."

"You gave her an assignment on the Moon? Earth's Moon?" Erika was bewildered.

"It was a very good scientific project. The results were impressive. I thought, T'Pol would be eating it up with a spoon, but she didn't fit in, they told me."

"Where's your brain lately!" Erika cried out. "You sent her to Terra Prime country, after she'd just been released from a dreadful place and you're surprised she walked away? Of course, she would."

"Terra Prime is dismantled and she's Vulcan. They're not really sentimental people. She wouldn't care, she doesn't feel rejection. No emotion, you know!" he shouted.

"And what is with you lately?" Erika fired back "What's eating you? Every time we speak you're moody, grumbling about how bored you are, you're irritated, rigidly following rules, sometimes downright judgmental toward Vulcans. You never liked them, but this is getting out of hand."

"Like you're a big fan of them!"

Erika regained her poise. "You're right, I'm not a fan, but I do believe that T'Pol's been through a very tough time and she does care about her crew, Earth, the child. And you worry me. Speaking as a fellow officer, you should get your act together. If this attack means war, you need to stay focused and in control. No distractions of any kind, nothing hindering you." She stayed silent for a second. "And as someone who cares about you, loves you, please try to resolve whatever it is that's troubling you."

Her pleading eyes and words spoke to his heart and for a split-second he thought of telling her. He couldn't. It would hurt her and he couldn't risk losing Erika. How could he tell her he had dreams about a beautiful women he met once in the Expanse? Especially after the time she had found out about the Orion women in a Starfleet report instead of him telling her. Erika hadn't said much, but he had felt she wasn't very happy about it.

"I'm tired and frustrated. If only I could go back to the ship, being captain again..." he answered weakly.

"Whenever you want to talk..." Erika responded.

"I know," he said and changed the subject, before ending the conversation.

In a couple of hours, Erika's words become true and he was ordered to collect his crew and leave space dock in three days to assist the ships at the scene.

The first order of business was to contact his crew, who were involved in different Starfleet projects. While he was preparing to make the calls in his office, his secretary Janine informed him that Ambassador Soval had called. He wanted a word with him. "I'll get to him," he promised her, knowing that Soval's patience was probably getting thin.

On top of his list was his call to Trip. He tried several times to reach him at the research facility in the Kajani-system. Finally he was able to get in touch with Anna Hess. She informed him that Trip wasn't in his cabin and put him on hold, while looking for Trip. Drinking his fifth coffee with growing impatience and staring at the screen, he realized he was wasting precious time. Finally, Trip's face appeared on the screen.

"You've been taking your time. Your second in command didn't know where you were!" he snapped. "We've lost contact with one of our colonies. Starfleet has ordered the _Enterprise_ launched again to investigate the attack. You are ordered to come back to Earth. We are at war."

He let his irritation get the best of him, like many times lately and he rigidly said "In these kind of times, swift communication is essential. Don't keep me waiting next time."

"Captain, it's very early in the morning here and I already started my shift without Hess knowing," Trip came back with his excuse.

He accepted his apology, still thinking Trip should have informed Hess. "The entire crew of _Enterprise_ is being called back and we're leaving dry-dock in three days. _Columbia_ already been sent there and both ships are assigned to investigate."

Trip asked him about the attack, what to do with the research team and how the crew were going to be transported to Earth. Trip's question about the research team made him think of the report he had read about a Vulcan engineer by the name of Kov on that very team. Soval wanted a Vulcan on the ship. He jumped at the idea of asking this particular one to serve on the ship. At the end of the conversation, he asked Trip about this engineer and if it was possible to speak with him. To his surprise Trip said he would have a look and within seconds a chubby face filled the screen. With Vulcan ears.

He realized the Vulcan engineer had been present during his entire conversation with Trip. He didn't like that discovery.

"Captain Archer," the Vulcan greeted. "It is good to see you again."

Again? He searched his brain for any memory of meeting this person before. For a moment, he missed T'Pol who was much better at remembering names and faces.

"Did we meet before? I heard you're a very skilled engineer. Starfleet seemed very impressed by your findings."

The Vulcan replied in the same way as every other Vulcan he had seen, logical and precise. "It was very hard to find anything, except from some ancient Vulcan and Andorian texts without any logic. The basic engineering is the same as what we've seen before. Nothing revealing."

"So I'm told by my chief engineer. Still, one day we're going crack the code." The fact that nothing substantial had been found on the ship was the source of great chagrin for him. It was one of his major disappointments this last year. He had hoped with all his heart that his discovery would help Starfleet vastly.

He looked at the Vulcan and he thought that Kov would be thrilled, in a Vulcan sort of way, by his offer. So he explained his idea. "Like I said, I could use a good engineer and a Vulcan on _Enterprise_. It's a good opportunity for you, to serve on the best warp ship we have and it's good for the relations between Earth and Vulcan. What do you think?"

He didn't expect Kov would pass over such an opportunity, but he did.

"I am sorry, Captain. I think I will be more useful advancing the relations between our people here. But I am honored that you did consider..."

Frustrated he ended the conversation, but before he could give his dismissal and stop the transmission, Kov made a final remark that made him face his frustrations of the last year all over again.

"Captain, there is a solution for your problem. She has served you very well for years and is very capable. And she is Vulcan. I am sure Commander T'pol…."

T'Pol. What to do with her? Why was he fighting against her return to _Enterprise _when so many in Command obviously wanted to appease the Vulcan government, to show there were no hard feelings? He hardly understood himself anymore and he didn't want and couldn't explain the situation to this almost naive looking Vulcan. "That's no longer an option. Good night, gentlemen. Archer out."

His headache became worse. Rubbing his temples, he decided he could use a short break to clear his mind. He told Janine he was going for a walk in a nearby park.

Walking in the park, he crossed a field where children were playing. He looked at how they were playing baseball, while their mothers were chatting with each other. The park was a peaceful place, but it didn't lift his spirits. Thoughts of the coming war ran through his head. _Would these children grow up in peace or would the hounds of war soon destroy their peaceful surroundings? It was Starfleet's job to protect Earth, but would they be able? _he thought_._

When he came back from his unhelpful walk, Janine was nervously waiting for him. "Captain, there is someone in the waiting room anxious to speak to you," she said in lieu of greeting him.

"Let him make an appointment, we're leaving in two days and I'm kind of busy," he said.

"If you can make the time for a walk in the park, Captain Archer, there is certainly time for me. It would only take a minute."

The voice, the unmistakable posture of a Vulcan and even the words could only mean one thing. He couldn't escape Ambassador Soval anymore.

Observed by a very curious Janine, he walked in the office together with Soval and closed the door. He gestured to Soval to sit down, while taking his place behind his desk again. The Vulcan ambassador slid into the chair opposite his desk carefully, before handling him two PADDs.

"Here are two detailed reports about the Dosa-system and the nearby Lota-system, with English translations. They were compiled by a young Vulcan ensign, many years ago, while investigating the death of one of our ministers. I expect Starfleet will find the information extremely useful."

He had expected a strong reprimand from the old Vulcan, not an offer of help. "How do you know about the attack in the Dosa-system?" he demanded to know.

"Let's say I have my sources." Pointing to the PADDs he added, "It may be of particular interest to you to check the ensign's name. You probably are familiar with her."

Jon pushed a button on one of the PADDs and instantly a text in Vulcan with English translation appeared. It was unmistakably written in T'Pol's style. Above the text stood her name.

Soval continued, "Captain, I am aware that Earth in on the verge of a war that will influence the whole Alpha system. I believe that it is in the best interest of Earth and Vulcan that the Coalition stays intact so that Vulcan will help Earth in this coming war. However, the present Vulcan administration thinks that the way of Surak is best served by taking a pacifist stance and dismantling our military. I am offering you my support and any information I have and may receive to assist Starfleet." He paused meaningfully, "For the benefit of both our planets."

He was surprised by the ambassador's candor and his open disapproval of his own government's current policies. For years, Starfleet had tried to coax the reluctant Vulcans to share their information with them. This was too good to be true.

"What's the catch? What's the price that Starfleet has to pay?" he asked Soval.

"No catch, Captain. No price. I only want someone that I can trust on your ship and I will share my information with her. She will keep Starfleet informed. It will been seen as a token of cooperation, a way for Vulcan to demonstrate support for the Coalition. Maybe it will even help convince the my government to give military aid."

"Or they'll let us muddle on through on our own," he interrupted Soval.

"I cannot offer you any guarantees, Captain, but I will promise you I will do my utmost to aid both the Coalition and Earth and will encourage others to do the same," Soval responded.

"All I have to do is take my former XO back? That's it? Why would I do that? The last time I saw her, she didn't look in very good shape. Besides, I thought Vulcan officially cast her out, and she sure looked like she had no place on her own planet, but now you want her to represent Vulcan in Starfleet?" Jon refuted.

"That is true, but the circumstances surrounding her punishment were very complicated. Adapting to a normal life, regaining her place in Vulcan society again, cannot be achieved without diligent effort on her part, but it's possible. Furthermore, the persons who implemented her punishment are informed of the fact that the warden of Lethizeh, the facility she was sent to, made the observation that Commander T'Pol regained logic during her stay. Her behavior was exemplary," Soval said in a clipped voice.

_I bet it was,_ Jon thought, not at all reassured by Soval's words.

Soval proceeded, "Commander T'Pol had served you and Starfleet well and is a strong supporter of the Coalition. She entered the Expanse and fought with the _Enterprise_ crew for the survival of Earth. Commander T'Pol has grown adept at working with Humans, experience no other officer currently possesses. I trust her and I think she is the best choice."

"What about her emotional state?" he wanted to know. "I don't think she's capable of working on a starship."

"As I stated, her condition has greatly improved. I visit her everyday to help her and she is making significant progress. You will not notice anything remiss when it come to her performance," Soval reassured.

_Soval always follows a certain political agenda,_ Jon thought. He and T'Pol had on occasion not seen eye to eye, Soval frequently disagreeing with her decisions. Therefore, even though Jon was aware of Soval's sympathetic side, he was still taken aback by the notion that Soval was helping T'Pol with her emotions. It put all of what Soval said until now in a different light, which caused him to say, "You have all these nice justifications lined up, but you aren't telling me the real reason. This is either a Vulcan trick with some pointlessly mysterious goal or it's something personal."

Jon saw a flicker of emotion cross Soval's face, but he heard no emotion in Soval's voice when, after a moment of silence, he said, "My perspective of Commander T'Pol is based on my life-long relationship with her. I have known her since the day she was born. Her father was my friend, or as you Humans say, a brother to me. I also understand her condition, because I have been in that situation twice."

Jon's eyes widened. He couldn't imagine Soval being sent to prison once, let alone twice.

Apparently his confusion was clearly written on his face, because Soval added, almost reluctantly, "Her stay in Lethizeh has made a strong impact on Commander T'Pol, but I was referring to her grief concerning her child. I am familiar with how difficult that is."

Jon hadn't thought about the child, since the events of Terra Prime took place over a year ago. He looked at Soval's face, which suddenly looked older, and responded to his words. "_Enterprise_ is hardly a place for counseling, especially now that we're heading for war. And her relationship with Commander Tucker is over, so I don't see how that would help, either."

"_Enterprise_ is where she needs to be, Captain. It's hard for me to explain and I am not sure if you are willing to accept any of my explanations. It has to do with our Vulcan ways," Soval added vaguely. "It's also not very relevant in this case, because I have given you more then one reason why you should ask for Commander T'Pol to be reinstated. All of them benefit Starfleet and Earth. I know most of Starfleet Command want her back. So maybe it is **your own** personal reasons that have clouded your judgment."

Angry, he wanted to contest Soval's assumption, but Soval put another proposition on the table. "To meet you halfway, Captain, why don't you make Commander T'Pol a science officer on _Enterprise_ for one month. If you still don't want her after that period, other possibilities shall be considered."

Jon realized all of a sudden that he had nothing to lose. He would gain information Starfleet needed and Soval's undying support. There were also four years of serving and fighting together with T'Pol that he couldn't dismiss. He would make everybody happy by accepting Soval's last proposal, except possibly himself, but sometimes that was part of his job. So he did.

When Soval left the room, satisfied with the outcome, Jon reflected on their strange conversation. He had never considered whether or not Soval had children, let alone possessed strong paternal impulses. Curious, he searched Soval's Starfleet record. The file, recently updated, contained more than 300 pages, but was probably not as big as his file in the Vulcan database, he thought.

He searched under the word "children". He found a list with five names. Three of those showed an open-ended date of birth. Two of them, with the names Linan and S'Vai, also a date of death. So far, Soval's story was holding up.

According to the date, S'Vai's death took place two years ago, almost the same time _Enterprise _had been in the Expanse. Intrigued, he clicked on the name and the picture of a young Vulcan women filled the screen. She had Soval's brown, almost amber colored eyes. She looked at him the same way Soval had done in their conversation, but her face was softer. In many ways, she looked like any young beautiful woman, bursting with life and ideas.

He read the first line of her file. _S'Vai, Lieutenant, science officer aboard the Seleya. Died in the Expanse after the Seleya was destroyed on stardate._... His eyes became blurry and he couldn't read any further.

He had never thought much about the victims of the _Seleya._ It was an accident and nobody could saved the crew anyway, like he told Soval in that meeting after _Enterprise _returned. They had already been too severely exposed to the Trellium; they were too far gone. He knew T'Pol warned him about the danger of the warp core being unstable when they overloaded the power grid, but it was their only way to escape the _Seleya_ and return safely to _Enterprise. _

Soval, as a logical Vulcan, had also come to the conclusion that his actions saved Earth and Vulcan and thanked him afterward for his efforts in the Expanse. But before, in that first meeting, Soval had been asking questions, questions that made a lot more sense to him now. Soval had asked him why he'd not even downloaded the ship's data records and how Jon knew that all of the crew couldn't be saved. "You didn't try to save a single Vulcan crewman," was Soval's almost bitter conclusion. Now Jon was looking at the picture of that one crew member Soval would have given anything to save and the victims of the _Seleya_ had a face. A face he couldn't ignore.

He turned away from his screen to the little globe of Earth on his desk. _It was for the mission_, he thought. _To save Earth._ He picked up the globe. He absently turned it around and looking at it he thought, _I have gained my world_. But in the process he lost some of his soul. It took him a long time before he was able to go back to work.

The next day, he made a few calls to Black and to others in Starfleet Command. In a few hours it was official, T'Pol was pardoned and reinstated as Commander. Next he had to make a call to T'Pol at her beach house. He knew T'Pol was living in a beach house in the San Francisco area. It appeared she had bought the house using her mother's inheritance, because Vulcan authorities had confiscated all her possessions. The house on Earth was all she had left.

Jon had been with Starfleet since the early beginnings, always wanted to join and thought that everybody would feel the same way, so at first he wasn't surprised T'Pol wanted to come back. But now he realized, it didn't make sense. Of course, he knew that she had apparently nowhere to go but Earth, but why go to the very organization that had prosecuted and dismissed her? If he had been treated like her, scapegoated for more than one officer's sloppy mistakes, he'd be mad enough to quit.

Perhaps she wanted to join Starfleet again because the Coalition was so important to her that she would do any thing to help keep up a good appearance? If the first Vulcan to join the fleet left Starfleet, it would feed endless speculations of racial prejudice that would only harm the Coalition. It was conceivable she wanted to help Earth again, like she did in the Expanse. Maybe... He didn't understand. All these arguments, but they didn't seem sturdy. Jon got the feeling Soval and T'Pol weren't telling him the whole story. There was an unspoken underlying reason, but there was much to gain from her return. So he made the call.

From the minute she answered, there was no hesitation, no surprise.

He expected to see the same T'Pol he met the last time. She still looked a bit off and emotional, but there was a change for the better. Soval had said so, but he was baffled by it. He couldn't really tell what it was. Maybe her eyes. Last time her eyes had almost an empty stare, but now she looked at him with clear eyes and in her usual first officer tone she asked, "What time do I need to report for duty?"

"We have a staff meeting tomorrow at 9 o'clock. Starfleet HQ, third floor, conference room 312. Most of the crew will be on Earth again, but some will arrive at 6 pm. We leave orbit that day at 7 pm."

"Then I will report at 9 o'clock, Captain," T'Pol said.

* * *

The morning of their departure began with a very pleasant surprise. When he entered the conference room, he eyes caught a very familiar presence, one he hadn't expected to arrive until the last minute.

"Trip!" he exclaimed. He had missed his old friend and chief engineer, despite his earlier irritation over the tardy communication.

Trip turned around and walked toward him to greet him. "Good to see you, Cap'n."

"Good to see you too."

He stared into the face of his old friend. Though he looked older than when _Enterprise _made her first fight, Trip's demeanor made him look like the old Charles Tucker again. Last year – the times he had interacted with Trip – he had seen a reserved man, keeping everyone out. He always had a tight look and his smile had always been noticeably absent.

It was the return of that smile, that made him think. There was something about him. He noticed that Trip was more relaxed, almost happy. This was remarkable considering the circumstances under which they were meeting, with a war hanging over their heads, but he was still glad for Trip.

"You know, we both probably have a busy agenda before we launch. Why don't you join me at 13.00 in the officers' lounge, so that we could have lunch together? Seems like we have a lot of catching up to do," he invited Trip. He could use an old friend, if he still was one.

"Okay, Cap'n," Trip answered to his joy. Trip kept his eye on the door and while talking his smile became broader. Jon turned around to see Malcolm Reed, who was swiftly welcomed with a clap on his shoulder delivered by Trip. The friends had a lot to talk about. Hoshi also entered the room, together with Janine and Doctor Phlox. Travis was not back on Earth yet, so the only one missing was T'Pol.

Which brought him back to his task of informing his crew about the last minute Vulcan addition. When everybody was seated, Janine attempted to make small talk with Trip. She looked at him with admiration, the same kind he had seen before in other women looking at Trip. Trip didn't noticed Janine and stared, deep in thoughts, toward the door.

He started the meeting. "Welcome. It's good to see you again. We all know about the circumstances of our departure and our mission. You will find information about the area of space we will be traveling to at your communication terminals." Several terminals were placed in the table for everybody to peruse. "Before we go into details about the mission, there is a change in the bridge crew. The Vulcans have asked us to add a liaison to our crew and Starfleet has agreed," he explained.

"As long they don't put a mental hook in your head, Captain," Janine joked. "I've heard…."

"You shouldn't believe everything that's been told about us, child," said a familiar baritone voice behind him. Janine's face turned red. To his dismay Soval had entered the conference room. How did he get in unnoticed? Dressed in his traditional robe, standing perfectly straight, the old statesmen made quite an impression.

"Ambassador," Jon greeted.

"Captain." It was at that moment when he saw a petite women dressed in blue standing behind him. He seized the occasion and introduced T'Pol to the crew. "Malcolm, Trip, Hoshi, I think you all know Commander T'Pol."

"Reporting for duty, sir," T'Pol said. "Thank you for accompanying me, Ambassador."

Soval greeted everyone in the room, "Gentlemen. Ladies." With his usual dignity the Vulcan ambassador to Earth left the conference room.

Before the silence could become awkward, Malcolm saved the day. "Good to see you again, Commander. Glad you could join us." His smile was genuine. Phlox gave her a very Denobulan smile, Hoshi looked perplexed and offered a nod. Trip said something in a hoarse voice.

T'Pol took a seat. "Please, continue, Captain." All eyes turned to him.

He started to share his information to his listening audience. A few times he was interrupted by questions from Hoshi and Malcolm. He could see the serious looks on everybody's face when he told them about the attack and the chance of this being the first signs of war. _Columbia_ and two other ships were already on site and investigating. The first reports confirmed they were dealing with a Romulan attack. It was _Enterprise_'s job to support the ships already on the scene.

T'Pol was sitting opposite him and when he saw her stern face, it was like nothing had changed. Maybe it was because he could see her face so clearly or because their topic was a very serious one, that it drew his attention when her features unexpectedly softened. On impulse, his eyes went to Trip. His features showed amusement and he was looking at her with a knowing smile on his face.

Jon felt himself getting aggravated at Trip for not listening during a such a crucial meeting and looking at T'Pol, well, the way he was looking. And he was angry at T'Pol for her soft expression. Sharply, he asked Trip what he thought about the situation and without missing a heartbeat, Trip answered, showing that he was paying attention. It irritated him even more.

It was a small incident, that only lasted for a couple of seconds. But it stayed in the back of his mind 'til the end of the meeting. Malcolm engaged Trip in conversation and Phlox went over to T'Pol, saying that he was pleased she joined the crew.

Phlox made his most agreeable face, "Before reinstating, most officers have a routine medical exam. Maybe you could join me now medical facilities at Headquarters for yours, if you have the time," he suggested to her.

Jon didn't hear the rest of the talk and started to collect his things. He saw Trip, finished talking to Malcolm, leaving together with the rest of the crew.

"Trip, do you have a minute?" he hailed him.

"Sorry, Captain, I don't have much time; I have to see Phlox," Trip said, walking towards him.

He waited until everybody had left the room, then asked Trip, "Have you and T'Pol been in contact lately?"

"I've been on a secure research facility and on a ship full of Tellarites, who don't let anyone near their communication terminals, without a very good, official reason," Trip stated.

"I just thought, the way you interacted..." he tried.

"I've hardly spoken a word to her, Captain."

He felt ill at ease about the subject. Starfleet Command had good reasons to believe the relationship between Trip and T'Pol was over and he had thought the same. Now he doubted his presumption. He hated to bring it up, but he had to. "You know, Starfleet Command assumes there's no relationship between you and T'Pol anymore. Don't forget, you already have a reprimand in your file."

"Yeah, for conduct unbecoming, but as a victim of a mentally imbalanced superior officer," Trip quoted, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

When Trip said it aloud, Jon remembered Trip protesting in vain against the wording. He could imagine such words would dent a guy's ego.

"I still have to interact with Commander T'Pol. She is the chief science officer and I am the chief engineer. I assume we're allowed to discuss ship's business?" Trip asked in an impassive manner.

"Of course."

He was surprised when Trip continued in the same businesslike way, asking "Am I allowed to spend time with her, Captain? She's been in a Vulcan prison for a year and I think she sure can use a friend."

In all honesty, he could not forbid a working friendship between his two most senior officers. "Friendship is no problem. Just keep a low profile, that's probably best given the circumstances." Memories of the year behind them caused an uncomfortable silence to rise between him and Trip. He changed the subject quickly. "Anyway, I'm glad, you're back on_ Enterprise_, Trip. The ship wouldn't be the same without you."

"Thanks, sir."

Trip was dutifully waiting for him to end the conversation. With a sigh of relief that they at least had talked about the new situation, he ended their conversation. "That will be all. Dismissed."

Trip nodded and walked quickly to the door. He seemed in a hurry.

Jon was looking forward to meeting with Trip for lunch. To his disappointment, Janine informed him half an hour before, that Commander Tucker left a message saying he couldn't make it. So at lunchtime, he was sitting all alone at his table, when the Denobulan doctor entered the officers' lounge.

Jon invited him to his table. "Doctor, did Trip come to visit you?" he asked, remembering Trip's excuse to leave.

"Yes, he did, Captain. Ah! Humans have such delicious food. Have you ever tried miso soup? It is quite tasty." Phlox started sipping his soup and enjoying his meal.

"I'm not into Japanese food. Why did he want to speak to you? Do you know where he is?"

"He said he had to go to attend some family business, before the launch. His other work was already finished."

"Family business? His parents are in San Francisco?"

"Most likely. There is one thing I still wanted to do. I wanted to thank you for the new additions in sick bay. Very well done."

"Yes, _Enterprise _is in better shape then ever," Jon said with pride.

They talked about the new mission, the renovated _Enterprise_ and soon it was time to get back to work. In a few hours, he would be back in space.


	10. Chapter 9 T'Pol and Soval

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 9**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount. The text of the conversation in the shuttle pod is taken word for word from the screenplay of the ENT episode _These are the Voyages_. I only changed the word 'chef' into 'Captain'.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **After the events of Terra Prime, T'Pol faces charges and is sent to prison. Meanwhile Trip is assigned to several projects and Archer works at Starfleet Headquarters. In this chapter, T'Pol tells her side of the story: her time in prison (2155-2156), her release and her conversation with Trip in the shuttle pod, as mentioned by Trip in previous chapters, and what happens after that.

**Author's note: **Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka. The ENT episode _These are the Voyages _is clearly a historically incorrect holo-program. As often occurs, in this so called historical document, quotes and events are taken out of context to meet the goal of the writer.

**- Correction and Rehabilitation facility Lethizeh, U'tal province -**

The room in which she had spent 300 Vulcan days and nights was 15 steps by 15 steps. T'Pol counted them every day, when she walked up and down from her mattress to the locked door. The room was cool, even cold at night, but being in a Human spaceship for four years had her made resistant.

The only items within her room were a mattress, also used during meditation, and her _asenoi,_ a meditation fire pot, that helped her meditate. In the corner, tucked away, her _vokau_, a plate made of stone in memory of a loved one. She had obtained a candle, an effort that had taken her several weeks to accomplish, and placed it at the _vokau_. She tried to light the light every night.

Sometimes she questioned the logic of bringing the _vokau_. It reminded her every time of the little girl she had known so briefly, but loved so much. She had felt loss before, first her father and more recently her mother. She had grieved and still grieved them, but the loss had became such a part of her, she could not cope. Now, every time her eyes saw the pink symbols and the lines of the _vokau_, the blue line for Trip, the red one for her, and the little flame gave some light in her dark cell, she whispered the words, "you will not be forgotten."

Each time, the pain came back like the waves of a fire storm in the desert, tearing down her defenses. What made it worse, that the _vokau _also reminded her of Trip, how she missed and longed for him. She had to push away those emotions in order to avoid being overwhelmed. It was the logical way.

From the first day she arrived in Lethizeh, she had learned the hard way that her main priority was to survive. T'Pol found her way in the tedious work of day, in the repetition of the _Kir'shara_ word by word during the lessons, and by trying to fight off her fellow prisoners. She became used to always being on guard, knowing any minute she could be be attacked or poked or made fun of in a brutal way by people who didn't have anything to lose.

But she did and she lost it anyway. She wanted to hold on to future. She thought long and hard about her life and what she wanted. She pondered Trip, trying to keep the memories of him alive, but her need to survive pressed her to keep those times short and random. A future with them together become more like a fantasy, never to come true.

T'Pol's days went by in their monotonous routine. She heard people talking, but it didn't reach her mind. She read the _Kir'shara_ many times, but her _katra_ stayed untouched. She looked at herself, going through all the motions. Her hands, eating breakfast. Her hands moving, when she worked in the fields or when she lit the candles for meditation. Every day the same. While her body was functioning, the rest of her was absent. She knew her thinking, logic, emotions, passions, memories, everything that made her was there, somewhere deep inside. But it was frozen, out of touch and she couldn't and didn't want to reach it.

She was totally alone, with no one for support, no one to help her in a cold and empty cell that was a reflection of her heart.

One day she was called to the warden's office. T'Pol was told her time as _Ras-kur kling dah-leh-teh reh-leh steh-kuh_ (prisoner 2037) in Lethizeh was almost complete, but she needed a medical and psychical examination. T'Pol answered the questions during the psychical exam with the required detachment and precision, while mentally quoting the _Kir'shara_. They were only words to her, sounds and letters. The warden was pleased, stating she had gained some logic during her time. The second part of the exam was to sign a letter, thanking Lethizeh for their help in regaining her logic. When she handed the signed letter back to the warden, the warden told T'Pol that she would inform the authorities of her release. She also would communicate this to her old employer, Starfleet, via Captain Archer. Archer of Starfleet – it sounded like a name she had heard before, in a past.

Logically, she had known that her days in Lethizeh would end, but when the doors of the gates opened, she had to tell herself it was true. She stepped outside and for the first time in a long time she could feel a soft desert breeze. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light. The sun was warm on her face. She took a deep breath, inhaling the desert, the familiar smells of her youth.

Yellow and orange, warm and tender, her beloved planet, greeted her.

They had arranged transport from U'tal province to the next space station and from there she was free to go. When she walked toward the shuttle that waited for her, she felt a itch on her neck. Below her right ear, for 360 long days, the monitor had been there. A collar to monitor her movements. Right before she stepped outside the gate, it was removed. In these sunny surroundings her moment of freedom had come. Somewhere in her cold heart, there was a small fire that reminded her of Trip. She reached out to feel Trip through the bond. There was nothing. She tried again. The world stayed as empty as before.

**- Earth -**

From the space station she chose the first ship to Earth. On the ship, she slept in her chair or stared at the ceiling. She tried to read, but she couldn't focus enough. The ship had few accommodations, so only when she arrived on Earth could she contact people. First Trip. She tried to reach him, with no effect. She moved on to the second person on her list and contacted Ambassador Soval, then Captain Archer.

The Ambassador offered his help. He didn't say much, but his whole attitude was one of support for which she was grateful. The captain made an appointment with her.

She needed a location to stay and she could only think of one place. She had bought a beach house in the San Francisco area one and a half years ago, using her mother's inheritance, when a chance presented itself. Due to the fact that the Vulcan state confiscated every possession of a prisoner, only her beach house and some credit on her Starfleet card was left to her. In the house, she was reminded that her other clothes and belongings were still in storage. She knew the old galley master of the _Enterprise, _Ensign Gilbertand his assistant, Ensign Mizuhito would be able to help her to gather any remaining personal items from the ship.

They were both very friendly, though surprised to see her. Especially ensign Mizuhito, who doubled as the barber from the _Enterprise,_ and was a old friend of sorts. He had talked her into changing her hair style from time to time, if only in minor ways. This time, seeing her traditional Vulcan haircut, he sighed that on Vulcan they seemed to have only one kind of haircut. Her old hairdresser insisted he would cut her hair and put some highlights in it to cover the gray streaks. It was logical to change her hair to fit her altered circumstances. Very logical.

So looking now in the mirror in the bathroom of her beach house, the woman she was facing didn't look anymore at the woman in gray prison clothes with gray hair. But her face was a reflection of the days ahead. Deep inside she was the same as the person pacing a cell 15 by 15. She looked unVulcanly emotional and nothing like the stern, dispassionate picture of the person who stepped aboard _Enterprise_ five years ago.

The next day she went to Starfleet Headquarters for her conversation with Captain Archer. Seated behind his desk, the captain looked up from his paperwork to greet her. "T'Pol. Please sit down."

She sat opposite of him and stared.

For the first time he really looked at her. His eyes widened and he stammered, "Well, you look... How..." Then he regained himself. "How long have you been back on Earth?"

"Four days, Captain."

"So, what are your plans?"

"Regain my position and return to _Enterprise_."

The captain fidgeted back and forth in his chair. "It isn't that simple, T'Pol. You can't just go back where you left off. Look, I appreciate that you want to join Starfleet again, but I don't think... It's complicated. Maybe you would be better off with a change of carrier. You could try the Science Department. I could recommend you." In an enthusiastic voice he continued, "In fact, I heard they have a very interesting science job. The report I received about this project stated they're getting impressive results. "

With great haste, he searched through his pile of PADD's and with an attempted smile he offered one to her.

She read the text on the PADD. "The Moon? The project is on the Moon?"

The Moon was the last place she wanted to go.

"It a great assignment, T'Pol. You'll fit right in," Archer answered with confidence.

She felt a strange emotion, welling up inside her. She once traveled through a area in space where no stars where to be found. It was unnerving to be glaring into darkness, searching for light, that wasn't there. She had the same feeling again, like the ground beneath her was gone and she was falling into a void in space, a darkness with no stars to guide her.

At that moment she realized it wasn't logic that led her to Earth or Starfleet. Logic had nothing to do with it. It was the longing of the bond that had driven her to go to the place where she could find Trip. Unconsciously, rejoining with him was her focus during her stay in Lethizeh, but there was no response from the bond and now it seemed they would be separated again by different assignments.

In a haze, she let Archer make arrangements and dazed, she walked out of Starfleet Headquarters. Taking the road near the garden, she suddenly saw Trip, walking towards Headquarters. He was accompanied by Lieutenant Kelby. He looked like lighting had struck him. "T'Pol," his voice cracked.

Thoughts ran through her mind. The fact that she couldn't feel the bond, even standing in front of him, was puzzling and confusing. She had made many mistakes, there were so many obstacles and painful memories. They hadn't been in contact for a year. He never expressed that he liked the bond. _Why should he want to be bonded with a former prisoner? Was that the reason why he blocked the bond? _she thought.

In the midst of her thoughts she became aware of Kelby's hostile glare and she greeted Trip back, "Commander," before walking past him.

When she finally reached her beach house, she went straight away to her bedroom and started meditating. It helped her become focused again. Once she was more settled, she went to the kitchen to make some tea. Staring into the cup, she evaluated her situation. There was still a spark of fire left in her and she couldn't stand her passive attitude. She didn't want to end like this. She had to speak to Trip. In the past, she had assumed too many things without speaking with him. The fact that she hadn't told Trip the truth and asked for his help, was the reason behind all her troubles.

Plunging through the Starfleet database – she knew how to access it – she had discovered that Trip was working on a classified project and visited Headquarters once a month. More research revealed that Trip was scheduled to leave tomorrow, first to the Space station Xerves on platform 3 with shuttle pod NX-001. Pilot: Ensign Mayweather. It took more time, but possible to travel from Space station Xerves to Earth's Moon, by arrangement. She was going to be on the shuttle. Now she only had to contact Ensign Mayweather.

The next morning, she made a short stop at the captain's office. He surprisingly engaged her in small talk, asking her if she'd been in contact with friends and acquaintances upon her return, even mentioning Trip. She listened patiently to his chatter, before he wished her well and handled her a PADD with her assignment.

Quickly, she went to the platform where she was greeted by Ensign Mayweather. He said that he had already told Commander Tucker that he would have company during the ride. When she stepped in the shuttle pod, she noticed his familiar smell. A head with blond hair turned around, his eyes widened, but he didn't say a word. The only sound was Ensign Mayweather, starting the engines.

Ensign Mayweather broke the silence. "We're going through the troposphere. Might get a little bumpy".

_What's wrong with hi__m?_ she thought. She didn't expect Trip to resume their relationship like nothing had happened, but at least he could say something to her. Shouting, fighting, sarcastic remarks, anything was better then this silence. She thought of ways to begin a conversation to get at least a response from him.

Her emotions were not noticeable when she found her opening line. "Have you been down to see the captain yet?" She was curious if he knew about the captain's discussion concerning her. Did he agree?

He opened his mouth for the first time. "First thing in the morning. You?"

She took the opportunity. "He talked about you."

"Me?"

"Us".

"What about us?" _What about us? Do you still care about me? Is your affection so fleeting? Don't you think it's important?_ she thought. He didn't want to talk about it, she concluded and back-peddled.

"It's not important"

"Why bring it up?" he said very logically.

She answered truthfully with the question that was her mind. "Do you ever miss me?"

He tried avoiding her. "You mean**...**"

"Yes".

He didn't answer the question. "You know how long it's been."

_T__hat's why I asked you about missing me. Are you saying that it's been too long for us to continue?_ She remembered the rocky road before and after they discovered they were bonded. Maybe he didn't think they had a chance anymore and thought it ended_. Answer the question_, Trip, she thought.

"That's not what I asked you."

Trip seemed reluctant to talk. "Well. Yeah. I guess. Sometimes."

Sometimes. She weighed his words carefully in her mind. She knew that it was illogical to dwell on memories. Those memories of those days after the Expanse and the other times. And too painful. She need to suppress them, to survive like in Lethizeh. And suddenly they all resurfaced.

"I haven't thought about those days in along time," she said.

"Benefit of being a Vulcan," he responded.

A fire of anger rose up inside. _You don't understand_, she thought. _There is no benefit. I work every day to control this stream of exploding emotions. You are Human, you don't live in fear that emotions will be your downfall, for you and others._ His answers made her fear Trip didn't care anymore. Did he care that they going to be separated again?

"After speaking with the captain, I realized we may never see each other again," she brought the subject up, after she managed to suppress the upcoming anger and fear in her _katra_.

Trip was surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"We are on different assignments. There is no way of knowing."

Trip disagreed. "There is every way of knowing. I can guarantee you, we are not going to lose touch. Stop thinking like that."

His message of indifference had been that "he guessed he missed her sometimes," but still at the end it looked as if he was reaching out to her. It was confusing. She left him with an indication that she missed him and hopefully he would understand. "However long it may be, I believe I 'm going to miss you".

They departed, Trip to a unknown location and she took the first ship to the Moon.

When she reported to the head of Starfleet research department on the Moon, Dr. Philips objected of T'Pol's assignment, stating she would hinder their goals. They wanted to establish positive changes in how the people on the Moon, mostly sympathizing with Terra Prime's philosophy, saw Starfleet and bringing in a very well known Vulcan was not going to help the Moon Science Department. T'Pol was equally uncomfortable with being on the Moon again, so she said she understood. The doctor quietly arranged to transport T'Pol back to Earth.

She went back to the only place she could, her beach house. Alone in the house, she took time to meditate. In Lethizeh she had spent many hours in meditation, mostly trying to analyze and suppress her emotions. It was different now.

Once, she had told Trip that Vulcans need to control their grief, otherwise it would consume them. In the days to come, she experienced how true these words were. The few hours on the Moon had opened an old wound that hadn't been much tended and probably never would fully heal. She grieved about the little girl she once was a mother to and who she would never see growing up. It was like standing in a sandstorm while microscopic grains of sand penetrated your clothes and abraded your body. The pain remained in flux and there was no escape.

The pain of losing Trip was a different one, also fierce and raw, but mixed more with despair and self-contempt. The pain weighed high hard on her mind, sapping her energy. She realized Trip had offered her his friendship. A precious gift, but her heart wanted more. While she hadn't recognized it at the time, in Lethizeh she had concentrated on meeting her love once again as a light in the darkness. Now that prospect was gone.

Her meditation became more erratic; she had a hard time focusing. She hardly ate anything and the feeling of hunger stayed with her.

Memories ran through her head, flashes that moved like a whirlwind. During the day, she noticed that her turmoil caused her to daydream about the few good times Trip and she had shared. She rebuked herself for such idle waste of time. She should process those past years and find a way to live without him. She would, but for now she found her memories of Trip too comforting. So she allowed herself to daydream.

But at night her dreams were mixed with memories from Lethizeh and other difficult times, dark, cold as ice, with no air to breath, a place where her thoughts were consumed in the black fog.

In the midst of her turmoil, someone came to help her. Two days after she arrived from her short trip to the Moon, she heard the doorbell. When she opened the door, she saw the familiar face of Ambassador Soval.

He entered her house and she offered him some tea. He graciously accepted it. He took a seat on the one of the pillows in the living room, seated opposite him.

After they drank their tea in silence, he told her, "I understand your assignment on the Moon is finished. Because you are an alien on Earth you need work to maintain your residence permit. I took the liberty of finding you a job at the Starfleet Science Department. You will be translating Vulcan science articles into English for their magazine: the _Science Monitor_."

Shortly after he had explained her new job in more detail and discussed peripheral matters of employment he prodded sincerely**,** "Child, I can see you have some difficulties adjusting to your new life."

She had known the Ambassador all her life; he had been a close friend to her father and the father of two of her closest friends on Vulcan. She always paid him the respect he deserved as an elderly person, but there had been an underlying camaraderie in their relationship. Once she started working for him and accepted her assignment on _Enterprise,_ their relationship had become more professional and work related. In the past years she had differed in opinion with the Ambassador over certain issues, but if she could choose any Vulcan for advice at this moment, it would be him. So she answered affirmative to his question and accepted his offer to meditate alongside him.

In the days to come, he visited her every morning. He would meditate in the living room and his presence helped her concentrate.

Also, work always had helped her regain order in emotionally troubled times, so she tried to bury herself in the work of translation. She was well versed in English, but she had been living in a Vulcan-speaking environment for a year and lacked the creativity needed in this work. Working for the _Science_ _Monitor_ cost her more energy then she had expected.

One of the reasons was also that the pain was still there, and the nightmares became less frequent, but they still plagued her.

After a week,she finally asked him the question that been on her mind.

"Ambassador, I noticed that your presence helps me greatly. I am in debt. I didn't expect any support. I know I acted wrongly."

"I agree that your actions in the Expanse lacked logic and were self- indulgent, but you received punishment for those. We must close that chapter of your life and concentrate on your recovery toward normal function," the Ambassador answered.

She had been thinking of telling Ambassador Soval about her grieving process. "_Del'haiu,_" she started this difficult subject**,** "we discussed the importance of my recovery. There is one element in this process that I have not told you about. It's not simply the stay in Lethizeh that I need to analyze and process. I didn't fully process a certain strong emotion, so I still have to deal with it."

"Because it consumes you. Grief over a child always does," Ambassador Soval answered. "I thought as much. That's why it's only logical that I would help you. Grief is normal; the bond between a child and its parents is strong and losing this bond will unleash many overwhelming emotions. First you have denial, then rage, then acceptance. The pain always stays."

His words were insightful and she remembered his grief over his daughter's death after _Enterprise _had destroyed the _Selaya. _She found the courage to ask him another question."I find rage the most difficult of emotions. Still I harbor anger against..." She found it hard to express such a delicate matter. "When you heard that Captain Archer had given the order…."

Soval understood her underlying question. "Rage is closely related to our desire to protect the ones who share our affection. Captain Archer didn't seem to care about the Vulcans how died. Later, I understood the logic of his decision."

The remark trigged an emotion related to her own situation. Her breathing became irregular. "There is no logic in this," she bluntly stated about her own loss. The minute she said it, she regretted it. She denied logic, the basis and answer to all things in Vulcan eyes, and she had spoken disrespectfully against an elderly person.

The Ambassador didn't respond with a sharp remark, but said instead, "It is hard to find logic in your situation, child. In my case, Captain Archer chose his own people above the Vulcans. It doesn't matter if my daughter was also on the _Seleya, _because everyone who died on that ship was someone's mother, father, son or daughter. I find his actions morally questionable and the death of my daughter deeply disturbing, but I can understand his logic of choosing a healthy crew above a contaminated crew, of choosing to save Earth and many planets from the Xindi instead of saving a few Vulcans. Terra Prime acted out of malice and hatred. I can only accuse Captain Archer of indifference. His _katra_ is closed to us." He paused. "Unlike your mate."

"I do not have a mate," she responded, emphasizing every word.

"Not officially. There were many indications of your relationship. Your conduct after your connection with Koss was one of them. You know Vulcan rules, you live as a couple one year together to make the marriage complete or you mate. You didn't do either. First you used an archaic custom of meditating on Mount Seleya for two weeks and then you went on and on with your negotiations. Then I worked with Commander Tucker on _Enterprise _and my observation of his behavior led me to conclude he understood Vulcan's ways much better then anyone aboard the ship. He has an open _katra._ Combined with other factors, it became clear to me."

He went on**, **"Commander Tucker is also the father of your child and as such a much more suitable support then I am. He came to me after the child died, asking me for advice to help you with your grief. He seemed very concerned about your welfare and about the fact that his emotions, as father of the child, bonded to the mother, would effect you. I taught him several meditation techniques. He did this while he was under great emotional stress. It showed me that Commander Tucker cares deeply about you. So whatever your situation is now, child, always remember that."

"I will," she answered. T'Pol was grateful for his advice and his openness. More then ever she felt a longing in her heart to talk to Trip. Fear had stopped her from telling Trip about her addiction and all the things that troubled her. It had left her with nothing. "Cast out your fear," she quoted the _Kir'Shara_ in her mind.

Days went by with meditation and work. Three weeks after her return to Earth the Ambassador asked, after their meditation, for some tea and after she made one for both him and herself, he took a seat on her couch. Steam was wafting from the cup in his hands, but he drank the hot tea with small, determined sips. When he finished his tea, he said**, **"T'pol, I offered you my assistance for many reasons. One of them is our old friendship and my gratitude to your father, the others are political."

He got her attention. "_Del'haiu__, _please elaborate."

"Hardly any detail concerning Vulcans in service escapes the attention of the High Command or their administrators. Now we are expected to believe that one of the most prominent Vulcans in service with one of our allies goes absent without leave and nobody protested against it or discovered it for two years? And what are the odds that just before this officer is facing serious charges, one of my children and his family are injured so badly in a mysterious shuttle accident, that I had to return to Vulcan?"

"It was fortunate that they all recovered. Concerning my resignation, I know I received a confirmation from the High Command, but..." she answered.

"You couldn't find it any more."

"No." She remembered her frantic search in her files and her despair when she found nothing.

"My conclusion is that someone with access to all the involved files went to great lengths to get you out of the way. They tried too hard, so hard it became obvious someone or some group has infiltrated both High Command and Starfleet," the Ambassador told her.

"A group with an agenda against the Coalition," T'Pol concluded.

"Yes. My suspicion has been confirmed by one of the old high-ranking ministers in the Vulcan High Command, Valis. Our contact was developed after I helped him reestablish contact with his son. He told me a disturbing rumor about one of Starfleet's most famous officers." He turned to her with a unexpected question**,** "T'Pol, explain the story of Surak and the game of Kal'toh."

Every Vulcan child knew this story. In a flash T'Pol remembered telling this story to her father when she was five. "Surak played a game of Kal'toh. He couldn't solve it. Then he saw that something was wrong with the placements of the rods. This led him to conclude rods were missing. When your logic concludes there is something missing, then it's probably true."

"Apply this to Captain Archer."

"There is nothing wrong with Captain Archer," she responded to his unexpected request.

"Concentrate; don't let your personal perception and other distractions cloud your judgment. Analyze your last conversation with him and look for the missing rods," the Ambassador demanded.

She did. Taking their conversation apart word by word, she relived their exchange. She analyzed his body language, his mood and the way he said the words. She compared their last meeting with his mannerisms during the time she served with him. The captain might have made mistakes, especially in the beginning with his prejudice against Vulcans. Nevertheless, he had tried to establish a friendly and professional relationship. Granted, he had changed in the Expanse, but compared with his latest attitude, rods were definitely missing.

"His behavior is off**,**" she concluded. "He didn't want me back. Captain Archer and I are not close, but I have proven my loyalty and we had established a sort of understanding. That's gone. I can find reasons for his behavior, but they are not convincing."

"You learning again to use your skills. Good, you're going to need them. I tried to get a Vulcan on _Enterprise_ and you're my best choice. I want you to return to _Enterprise _and find out what is going on with him. It will also help you to solve the mystery of who wanted you away from Starfleet," the Ambassador explained.

She knew exactly what this meant. "The Ministry of Security believes Captain Archer is contaminated. Shouldn't we inform Starfleet about this? Earth is on the verge of war and a possible breach of security is imminent."

"I share your concern, but we can't tell Starfleet that we suspect that their hero of the Xindi war is under the influence of an alien, probably a telepathic alien, without any solid proof. Not in this present situation," the Ambassador refuted.

"And how is this connected to my trial?"

"T'Pol, remember agent Tikol? How he ended up being brainwashed when he was undercover on Helix 3 and in isolation for more then a year? When he returned to Vulcan, his mate was the first to find out. The mate is always the first to know. The ones closest to us will notice something is wrong. Commander Tucker and you are the closest to Captain Archer on _Enterprise_. Apparently, they wanted you out of the way and used the trial for that purpose," the Ambassador answered.

T'Pol took some time to contemplate this new information. She found the situation as painted by the Ambassador very disturbing. One sentence kept playing in her mind. _The __mate is __always the first to know. _Captain Archer wasn't the only one whose behavior was conflicting. When she met Trip again for the first time since her imprisonment, near Starfleet Headquaters, he looked shocked. Then in the shuttle pod, he was pretending there was nothing between them, but in the end he promised her they also would have a connection. And why was the bond gone?

"Ambassador, would it be possible that more people in Starfleet have been influenced?" she asked.

"Influencing more persons would lead to more chances of exposure. Captain Archer is in this respect a perfect target, highly informed, founder of the Coalition, isolated, known for his hostility toward Vulcans. But they could be reasons to do so," he answered.

_Was she reaching a logic conclusion? Did she not let personal interest and emotions influence her? _T'Pol thought. And then without a doubt, she knew someone had hurt Trip. A female face appeared in her thoughts and the flames of rage filled her. No one was going to hurt her mate. She felt the urge to rip that woman's face into small pieces, of hitting her so hard she would beg for mercy for what she did to Trip.

She quickly suppressed her rage, suddenly aware of what was missing.

Trips passion was gone. He would do everything to protect her, like she would him, maybe more.

At the end of her reflection, she turned to the Ambassador. Some of the fury was still there when she said, "Get me on that ship."

There was silent approval in his eyes over her passionate plea, when he promised her, "I will."

After the Ambassador left, she ate a small meal - she still hadn't developed an appetite - and filled with thoughts about what she had heard, she started her meditation. Kneeling on the floor in her robes, gazing upon the candle, breathing in and out, she focused.

An old familiar tingle in the back of her mind begin to arise. Vague, weak. Then it was gone. There it was again, a gentle reminder of the bond. Someone was knocking on the door of her mind. She opened it and reached out, strengthening the little stream.

Through the mist of her white space, she saw the face she dreamed about every night and day. He was happy to see her. Their eyes made contact.

"T'Pol."

"Trip."

At the same time an excruciating pain exploded in her head.

Trip screamed, his Southern twang thicker then never before**,** "It's killing me!"

"Break the connection!" she shouted. "Now!"

She did the same and he was gone. The pain disappeared instantly. She was alone again. But not as alone as before and certainly more like the living again.

**Translation of Vulcan words**

Del'haiu - respectful title to address an elderly person.


	11. Chapter 10 Trip and T'Pol the meeting

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and it's characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **After the events of Terra Prime, T'Pol faces charges and is sent to prison. Upon her return, T'Pol discovers she can't feel the bond between her and Trip. In a conversation with Soval, T'Pol concludes that both Archer and Trip are acting out of the ordinary. When Trip tries to reach T'Pol through the bond, pain forces them to break the link.

**Author's note: **Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka and BnB for his advice. An old episode of TNG called _Evolution_ served as inspiration.

**- Earth -**

In the years that T'Pol had studied Humans and their culture, there was one aspect that might have seemed small and insignificant to an outsider, but it was one of the cornerstones to understanding humanity, the element that made them rise above despair: Hope. Essential for Humans, but T'Pol discovered after the visit from Trip in her white space that hope was helping her too. They hardly had time to communicate and the pain was cause for great concern, but he did contact her. His whole attitude, the look they exchanged and the way he said, "T'Pol", gave her hope that this nightmare of being separated from Trip would soon be over.

The next morning, as usual, the Ambassador came to visit her.

After their meditation, he told her, "I have heard from my source that there has been a _Rihannsu_ attack on a Human colony in the Dosa system. _Enterprise_ will soon be launched to join other Humans ships that are already investigating the attack."

She was all too familiar with the Dosa system and memories of her investigation when she was an ensign flooded her brain. Seeking confirmation she asked, "Is it a reliable source?"

"My source is not cheap, but very well informed," the Ambassador answered her.

"You're paying him for information?"

"An effective method. Starfleet is not very forthcoming with information these days. My source also told me that Starfleet is investigating a ship they have found in the Kajina system, the system nearest the Dosa system. I believe Commander Tucker is working on that project," the Ambassador responded.

"I do not think that Starfleet is aware of the dangers within that system," she offered as her opinion.

"No, that is why I would like to offer Starfleet our information, as a means to get you reinstated. You have written two excellent reports about those systems during the investigations of Minister Karik's death. Of course, I will delete any indication as to why we were investigating those systems," the Ambassador proposed.

She didn't want Starfleet to be informed about something so personal as the death of her father, so she was glad the Ambassador would make some adjustments to her reports before handing it to Starfleet. She used the break in their conversation to bring her subject up. "_Del'haiu_, yesterday night something happened and I would like your opinion. I know the bond is a private matter, but what does it mean if your mate is trying to reach you in your white space and pain forces separation?"

It took a couple of minutes before the Ambassador found an answer to her unexpected question. "Commander Tucker seemed more advanced in telepathic matters than I had thought, but judging from my own experience the pain is not normal. It looks like there is something wrong with his, or your, ability to communicate through the bond."

"Maybe he is blocking me?"

"He is very new at this and if he was blocking you, why did he contact you? Besides, blocking is inconvenient, but not painful. You should investigate this further. I have heard that new commentaries on the _Kir'shara_ by Valek and Ges, both skilled theorists, give interesting points of view on Vulcan telepathic abilities, including the bond. Maybe their books will prove helpful."

She agreed and later made a full study of the commentaries the Ambassador had suggested. Meanwhile, she contemplated trying to contact Trip through the bond, but feared that another contact might hurt him again. Then she heard from the Ambassador that _Enterprise_ and its personnel were called back and some of them were traveling with a Tellarite ship from the Kajani system to Earth. Chances were great that Trip would be on that ship, and when the crew disembarked, she would be waiting for Trip.

The street near Starfleet's shuttle station was barely lit and she had trouble seeing in the dark. She had decided to wait here, because many travelers took this small road as a short-cut to a main street in San Francisco, where local means of transport could be found. It was also Trip's usual route on his way to his official personnel quarters, a fact she had discovered in the days they spent together after _Enterprise _had returned form the Expanse. She expected to see him any minute, his ship - the _Berket - _embarked an hour ago, a day earlier than expected. T'Pol suspected that the Tellarite crew had used the wormhole in the Kajani system to shorten the journey.

The darkness was not helping her, but luckily her Vulcan ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps. She had heard them before, only to be disappointed every time. But this time, the footsteps sounded familiar. Vaguely she saw blond hair in the dark and before she knew it, Trip stood before her, a duffel bag nonchalantly placed over his shoulder.

"This is a nice surprise."

By the tone of his voice she guessed he was more then happy to see her. She searched for words, but fell back on formality. "Welcome back, Commander."

He grinned at her and she felt like she had come home. "You can call me Trip. What are you doing here? I thought you were off planet."

"I am living in San Francisco at this moment," she answered.

"Good. You're a nice change after spending two days with a lot of ugly, rude men," he stated. He began to walk and she followed.

"It's their custom to insult people. And their appearance maybe not aesthetically appeasing-" Mid-sentence she tripped. It was hard to walk in the dark.

Without a word, Trip took her hand and guided her to the main street. "We called them ugly, T'Pol. Almost made me homesick for some Vulcan company. How did you know I was on the Tellarite ship?"

"I have my sources," she said, admitting to herself that she was enjoying the firm grip of Trip's hand surrounding hers. She always like his hands, they moved with precision and care, strong yet gentle.

They had almost reached the main street, when Trip asked her, "So why are you here?"

"After our encounter in the white space, I had a suspicion that something medically was wrong. Making a connection through the bond, shouldn't cause any pain," she answered. She couldn't tell him that she thought he had being acting strangely.

"You picked me up for a medical exam?" he said, distressed, loosening his grip on her hand.

T'Pol feared that he would be reluctant to have the exam and she felt a strong need to pinch him and drag him to Doctor Phlox. Instead she placed herself before him and said clearly, "I wanted to see you. And help you."

"Guess you **did** miss me," he probed, searching her face for confirmation.

Thinking of their conversation in the shuttle pod, she thought he already knew the answer to that implied question. Apparently not. She decided that the best approach was to share her confusion with him. The days before she was sent to prison, they had been acting like bond mates would. After her release, she couldn't feel the bond and when they had their first conversation in the shuttle pod he was friendly, but withdrawn and it seemed like he had forgotten about the bond.

"I don't think 'miss' is the best word to describe my emotions. It was an overwhelming sense of longing, almost craving, that I needed to control and suppress in order to survive," she responded with care. "I was incomplete without you; I know that. I tried to reach you through the bond after my release, but I couldn't feel you. You seemed to block me and the conversation we had in the shuttle pod was also an indication that you felt reluctant about our relationship. Then you tried to reach me. So I am finding it hard to understand our current position."

In the streetlights of the main street they had reached, she could see that his features softened. "Can't blame you for being confused," he said, "after everything that happened. It became more and more clear to me that I was right. I didn't lose you. And you didn't lose me."

His remark stirred up many questions, but if she understood him correctly he still cared deeply for her. She wanted to reply, but at that moment people passed by, staring in curiosity at the Human-Vulcan couple. When they were out of sight, Trip commented "It's a long story and this is no place to talk. Let's go to my quarters."

They hastened their pace and, without speaking, arrived at Trip's place.

Trip opened the door to his San Francisco apartment and went to the kitchen, made himself coffee and for her tea. They didn't speak, but the silence wasn't awkward, as in the shuttle pod. In the bright light of Trip's apartment she could see his face clearly. She saw circles around his eyes, well known signs of fatigue, but his eyes sparkled and on his mouth a smile had shown up, a sight she hadn't seen in a long time. Trip gave her the cup of tea, their hands brushed slightly and she felt the familiar coolness of his skin. She put the cup to her lips and Trip started talking.

"Before they took you away, I thought we finally were heading toward something good. Then you were gone." He paused. "Away. I didn't feel the bond, I didn't feel at all. For a year there was nothing. Then you came back, but there was no contact. After we met in the shuttle pod I started having these weird dreams about you being in a cold and lonely place, with people beating you up. I also had these vivid memories about our times together, more poignantly then I ever remembered anything. I dismissed it, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was something Vulcan. It had to be connected to you. Then I met an old friend again, Kov. _Enterprise _helped his ship, the _Vahklas. _Kov explained to me that in prison telepathic avenues are blocked."

She did remember Kov. T'Pol suppressed the upcoming distress she felt every time she was reminded however indirectly of Tolaris, but she was truly glad Kov had been such a good friend for Trip.

"It's standard procedure in prison to be monitored," she clarified, "I became aware that the device also blocks the bond. The basic philosophy of Vulcan prisons is that you are responsible for lacking logic and your resulting crimes, so you must face them alone. It's common knowledge." Then she understood. "But not for you." She continued, "I am sorry that I burdened you with my dreams."

"It's not a burden, T'Pol."

"You want me to share my nightmares with you?"

Trip didn't hesitate. "I'm told that that's what the bond is all about, sharing, supporting each other, us being together."

"It is," she confirmed, aware of the truth behind his words. They were quiet for a moment before she asked him, "If you knew my state by my dreams, why did you ask if I missed you?"

"Asking you was the best way to get some answers," Trip responded. One of things she had learned about Humans was their need for verbal confirmation, which was logical for a non-telepathic specie that placed so much emphasis on spoken communication. In her own culture, sometimes it were not the words that counted, but the silences between them, when impressions and thoughts are shared. In her opinion, that was as much, if not more important, than speaking.

"Please clarify," she said in return. "You knew my thoughts and you didn't take them as seriously as spoken words? I tried to contact you through the bond. I thought my technique was flawed, feared that we were neurologically incompatible, that my mind was more damaged than Doctor Phlox had told me, or that yours had been harmed by the bond."

Trip put his hand atop of hers. "I didn't feel you. No emotions, no thoughts. Nothing that looked like the bond. Only weird dreams, memories and a lot of physical symptoms I didn't recognize, like the sensation of hunger when I wasn't hungry. I was still bonded to you, but I didn't realize that until the conversation with Kov, a few hours before I was called back to Earth. Kov gave me a PADD with information about the bond. One of the things that was mentioned was how to reach your bond mate. So I tried and thought I blew up our bond in the process. The moment I contacted you, this pain, like they fried my brain, developed. After we broke our link, I had this massive headache. I couldn't tolerate light, felt dizzy and disorientated. The Tellarite doctor gave me some medication that knocked me out for six hours. Guess Tellarite medication isn't so compatible with Humans. When I woke up, the headache was almost gone. It was like a fog had been lifted and I felt my self again, but the bond was still gone. Then I met you."

T'pol listened to his story with intensity. Trip had experienced her _gad-eshu'a _and_ yuk-eshu'a, _her daydreaming and nightmares and even mentioned her_ k'avon, _her feeling of hunger. She challenged his assumption that his attempt to contact her damaged the bond and asked him about his readings. They compared his findings with her recent studies. They talked about the year behind them; he wanted to know how she had spent her days. She gave him a detailed description of her daily routine in Lethizeh and he told her about the Starfleet reorganization and some of his assignments.

During their talk Trip developed an appetite, but the only thing he could find in his freezer compartment of his fridge were several pizzas. According to Trip, pizza was the warm welcome for any Starfleet officer coming home. He offered her a vegetarian pizza and he took a pepperoni.

During diner he teased her for eating her pizza with a knife and fork, because the best way was to eat it by hand. She let him banter, enjoying their meal together. He returned back to their subject of Starfleet assignments. "Most of them are classified and I got the feeling that you weren't in Starfleet anymore," he brought up.

"I have just been reinstated as Commander. I will serve as a science officer on _Enterprise_. Captain Archer called me at my house to confirm this at 7 pm."

"I thought there had been some difficulties."

"Ambassador Soval convinced Starfleet Command that my return was in everybody's best interest."

"Did he twist their arm or something?"

"I don't think he used violence to persuade them. It was mostly the Captain that needed convincing."

"It's strange," Trip remarked, "you have been loyal to him, fighting with him side by side and he acts like this? When I think back of the times the Captain and I spoke, I thought he was just miserable and lonely, like I have been. But I had a reason, I was missing you, wondering why the bond was gone."

She began to tell him about her return to Earth, her conversation with the Captain and what happened to her after she met Trip in the shuttle pod. She almost told him about her and Soval's suspicions about Captain Archer, but the concrete issue standing in front of her outweighed theories. It made her realize even more that there was a striking difference between the Trip back then and the Trip she was talking to now. She found it equally strange that during her return she hadn't felt the bond, because he was clearly not blocking her. All this needed further examination.

"When I returned to Earth, it was distressing to find the bond was gone," she said. "Besides the medical reasons I already told you, my main concern was that I thought you didn't want me any more. You were very upset when I told you about my addiction and I could understand that you didn't want a bond mate who was sent to prison," she told him.

He shoved his plate in front of him, with some pieces left. "Look, I had every right to be upset," he stated plainly. "You did put the crew in danger, but I think the main reason I got mad at you was because you didn't come to me when you needed help. We would have found a way to get you clean again and figured a plausible excuse for you to avoid taking command. But no, you wanted to solve your problems yourself. When you were really desperate, you went to Phlox. It made it look like our relationship was based on nothing and I was nothing to you."

His voice had been in control and collected and there were no traces of anger in his face, as if he were stating a fact. It underlined for her the need to counter his statement as quickly as she could. "You were never nothing for me in any respect. I would choose to have a relationship with you anytime again." She went on, "You're right. I was wrong to keep you uninformed. I hardly understood how I ended up in that situation and it was very disturbing to face my addiction, let alone face you. I have to live with the memories of the people that died under my command and with my mistakes and the damage I caused. I am sorry."

"Thank you," Trip answered. After a pause he pointed out, showing that he did know her very well, "You can barely forgive yourself for your addiction, can you?"

"Did you?" she replied. Growing up in a world ruled by logic, T'Pol had only seen glimpses of forgiveness and always unspoken, like when she was holding her dying mother in her arms, listening to her whisper that she always had been proud of her. Now, without fully understanding why, she needed to hear it from her Human mate.

"I did," he said simply.

His words made her relive that moment again, when the gates of her prison opened and she stepped into the light of the burning sun. But this time it was like she was really released. Deep inside her a strong emotion that most of her life was controlled by the bonds of logic, broke free.

Trips voice broke through her reverie. "You know, these past days, I have a hard time living with myself as well."

Wondering what he meant she replied that he did nothing wrong.

With eyes filled with emotion, he explained "T'Pol,when my sister died in the Xindi attack, I knew I couldn't do anything to save her anymore, but I could fight the Xindi, so I did. Our daughter... We tried to save her, we failed, but still... Watching over her was the only thing we could do. In spite of all the hurt, I'm glad we did. But you... Your trial stunk of political games all over. I'm so sick and tired of it, the powers to be taking away my loved ones. My sister, my daughter, you. You're the love of my life and looking back, I'm thinking these last days, what did I do to protect you? To help you, to stop them from putting you in that horrible place? Even when we were in a daze of pain because of our little girl, I don't understand myself. I made a promise to myself a few days ago that never again would I let people or circumstances run our lives. But what kind of a man am I when I did nothing to protect you?"

There were many ways to respond. She could point out the logic of his actions, that he wasn't able to do anything to prevent her fate a year ago.

She had learned that sometimes he only wanted her to listen, so she could stay silent. But then she thought of her realization the other day and this gave her the words to answer.

"Not the man I have known for five years. You would at least try to help me and protect me. I noticed that you have not been yourself lately. I am also worried of what happened when you tried to make contact with me through the bond, and because of some unofficial information about alien telepathic influences on Starfleet personnel. That's why I wanted you to visit Doctor Phlox."

"And then what, T'Pol? Let's assume we do find out why I didn't do anything. It doesn't change the facts."

"Vulcans are discouraged from dwelling on the past, but there is also the matter of justice. In my own experience a logical action is to find the persons responsible," she replied.

"And make them pay," he muttered and with a clearer voice he suggested, "Let's go to Phlox." She didn't respond to his muffled remark, as she was struggling herself to contain her anger at the ones who hurt the people she cared about.

When they contacted Doctor Phlox, he was more than willing to help them. He suggested that they come right away, so that they had time to investigate before the crew meeting in the morning, because _Enterprise_ was launching tomorrow. When they were leaving for doctor Phlox, their conversation in the kitchen was still on T'Pols mind. One thing needed clarification.

"You said in our conversation that I have your affection," she probed. "You called me your love."

"You're," he affirmed. Noticing her astonishment, he cupped his hands behind her head. Her brown eyes met his blue. "You are," he repeated. "What can I call you? Stubborn, yes. Sometimes annoying. You're challenging. But you're also sweet, attractive, confusing, strong, witty, open minded, compassionate, caring, passionate and full of fire, everything I want, my best friend and you will always will be the love of my life. And I love you to pieces."

With these words all doubts disappeared and both knew this was a new beginning for them. The bond was silent, yet their eyes spoke. T'Pol reached instinctively to reach him through the bond, but stopped herself. Then Trip used a Human way to connect and their lips found each other. Doctor Phlox had to wait an extra 10 minutes for them to arrive.

It was far past midnight and Doctor Phlox had been examining Trip for almost three and a half hours. First he checked all his vital signs, his brain patterns and made scans of every part of his brain. After this, he diligently checked every substance on the list T'Pol had giving him. Trip looked bored, but laid silently on the biobed.

"Commander T'pol," Doctor Phlox cut through the night's silence, "I have found something. I would like your opinion."

Trip moved to a sitting position and declared that the patient also would like to know what Doctor Phlox had found.

"I have found several disturbing things, Commander," Phlox spoke to Trip. On the screen above the biobed he showed him a series of neural cut-aways. "This is a scan of your prefrontal cortex. This," he pointed at branching black lines, "is scar tissue, the same lesions I have seen in the Expanse when crew members were attacked by a telepathic being. However, it is far more erratic."

"What does it mean, doctor?" Trip asked.

"It looks like you have been attacked by and were fighting with a telepath and judging from the age of the scar, this took place a year ago. You put up quite a fight, Commander," Phlox answered.

Trip glared the screen with a blank expression on his face. "Can't remember a thing about it. What about that white square shaped scar next to the front?" he pointed out.

"Yes, that one is puzzling to me. I like to exam the orbitofrontal cortex more closely," said doctor Phlox. "I'm almost certain I have seen this kind of lesion before. I have to look in my files. I believe it comes from the same source as the scar tissue."

T'Pol recognized the scar instantly. "It's a scar left behind after a memory block. Someone has erased Commander Tucker's memory."

Doctor Phlox was surprised. "Are you sure, Commander T'Pol? Have you seen this before?"

"Yes and so have you. When you were examining **my** brain."

Doctor Phlox was taken aback by her answer and Trip exchanged a look with her, challenging her to tell the whole story.

"I see," Doctor Phlox said, "we must investigate this further. But there is another thing that I found, which is quite a discovery."

"It couldn't be any worse then getting your memory wiped," Trip commented.

"I have searched for foreign substances in your blood, Commander, that will block or stimulate telepathic avenues. It took me a while, but here they are."

Doctor Phlox displayed a picture of a swarming mass on the screen above the biobed.

"A virus?" Trip guessed.

"I thought that at first. You have quite a lot of these in your body, but they are not easy to detect. At standard magnification, they appear to be ordinary retroviruses, commonly found in any Human body. But they are not and they are not biological, they are composed of mechanical components. This is more a case for an engineer."

"I'd love to take a look at them," Trip stated.

"I am sure you would, but we can't rule out the possibility that you're still under the influence of these viruses, which compromises your ability to make accurate observations," Doctor Phlox objected.

"I could investigate this together with Commander Tucker," T'Pol replied. "I can use his expertise. He is, after all, the best engineer in Starfleet."

Judging from his smile and his amused look, Trip seemed to be pleased by her remark.

"I will extract some of these nano-viruses from Commander Tucker's body for you both to examine," Doctor Phlox suggested. "Before that, I would like to have a closer look at his skin, lungs, nose and digestive system to establish the infection vector. But there is more."

The doctor put up another scan. "This object, invisible as the viruses, is made of the same material, only connected into a larger form. It's situated in Commander Tucker's orbitofrontal cortex, near the lesion T'Pol identified. It looks damaged; something happened to it. I am not sure what. Maybe you could also investigate the scans I made of this object."

After doctor Phlox had finished his exam on Trip, he and T'Pol used Phlox's medical equipment to look at the nano-viruses more closely.

After a while, when she was focusing on the object, Trip gently put his hands on her shoulder. It startled her. It wasn't unnoticed by Trip. He took his hands off her shoulders and asked her if she was fine. When she affirmed that she was, he searched her face and said, "You never act startled, not visibly anyway."

"I have spent a year watching my back and I need to adjust to my new situation. It's unfortunate that my adjustment isn't complete," she told him.

"These thing take time, T'Pol. Don't beat yourself up about it," he said firmly. The he stared into a point further away in the medical facility and asked her "Did they hurt you?"

"Hurt?"

"In Lethizeh. Did they physically hurt you?"

"I have scars and bruises on my body. I have been in a couple of fights."

"I mean, other then that," he probed. She became aware that he was ill at ease and avoiding her eyes.

"Vulcan prisons are extremely precise in their rules. Your vital signs are monitored all the time. Your freedom is completely gone and my fellow prisoners took their opportunities of insulting or attempting to assault me. The guards saw it as a result of our illogic and intervened, but usually after the fight had already started. But I became very advanced in dealing with the physical conflict," she told him.

"They didn't touch you."

She finally understood. "My dreams are an interpretation of my prison time and other dark periods in my life, made by my _katra, _based on real events, but not always a correct version of those events. I felt totally alone and on guard the whole day. No one touched me inappropriately, besides the fighting in the bathroom."

Relief showed on his face and she wondered what kind of things he had been thinking. "I am fine," she assured Trip again, placing his hands back on her shoulders. She felt his hands rubbing her shoulders, his smell and his face so close to her and her whole body relaxed.

She heard him say, close to her ear, his breath on her skin. "Promise me you don't shut me out. Don't give me your 'I am fine' crap when you're not. I can't help you if you do. And I want to help."

She turned around, they exchanged a look that spoke more than words conveyed. "I will."

Trip smiled briefly at her. "Guess it works both ways," indicating his willingness to do the same.

Their exchange was interrupted by an almost jovial sounding Doctor Phlox, who had been working in a different part of the facility and was now standing behind them. "I have already some interesting results. I am curious about yours."

Trip explained the results of their research. "These are the most ingenious things I've seen. It's a labor of love from a great engineering mind. These nano-viruses are actually micro-mechanical robots with gigabytes of computer memory, self-propelled motion and sensory capacity. I have read about submicroscopic robots, designed to perform medical functions within the bloodstream of a living organism, such as in intracellular surgery, but that research is in a very early stage."

T'Pol pointed out that the materials of which these nanites were made, could facilitate telepathic waves. "Which makes it clear that the nanites are designed for a telepathic use. Because the device is composed of them, we can assume its purpose is also telepathic."

"What kind of theory about the device does the best science officer in Starfleet have?" Trip asked, with a slightly teasing tone.

"I am still developing one. My starting point is that the brain is an electrochemical organ. Electrical activity emanating from the brain is displayed in the form of brainwaves. With Humans there are six categories of these brainwaves."

"That is correct," the doctor confirmed. "Vulcans have seven different brainwaves, Humans six. Beta waves exist when you are active, alpha waves when you are relaxed. Theta waves typically occur in children though they are sometimes present among adults who are daydreaming, meditating or suffering from a neural imbalance. Delta when you are in deep sleep or a coma. Mu rhythms have similar intensity to alpha waves, but are restricted to the sensorimotor cortex. Finally there are gamma waves, bursts of activity signaling neural coordination. In addition, REM frequencies occur when an individual is dreaming, but I don't believe that's relevant to the discussion at hand."

"Those theta wave have a slower frequency?" It was important for T'Pol to know.

"They are typically of even greater amplitude and slower frequency," the doctor confirmed. "This frequency range is normally between 5 and 8 cycles a second. A person who has taken time off from a task and begins to daydream often exhibits theta waves. It's a state of mental relaxation that is slower than alpha and when in theta, people are prone to a flow of ideas. It is a state where tasks become so automatic that you can mentally disengage from them."

She didn't want to discuss her bond with Trip with Doctor Phlox, but to make her case she had to share some information with him. "Judging from Commander Tucker's story I came to the conclusion that he, unlike other Humans, has some telepathic abilities," she started.

Doctor Phlox didn't looked surprised. "I am aware of that, Commander T'Pol, I did study Commander Tucker's brain. Of course, this information falls under patient-doctor confidentiality."

She pointed to a certain area on the scan in front of her. "Commander Tucker mentioned that this almost looked burned. Like after a circuit overload."

"I was thinking too hard," Trip chimed in, "Creating too many beta waves, I guess."

"In a matter of speaking," T'Pol continued. "My theory is that, based on the materials, the device functions as a telepathic transmitter. If this transmitter is only linked to one set of telepathic waves, perhaps theta waves as the frequency cycle is similar to one produced by Vulcan brains, and can't handle different waves... If someone were transmitting similar but slightly altered telepathic waves himself-"

"It will cause the transmitter to overload," Trip came up with the solution.

"The overload of telepathic energy is, in my opinion, the reason for the pain you complained about. The device is likely compatible only with a specific Human frequency, as theta waves." It also explained why Trip couldn't hear her talking through the bond, but could sense her daydreaming and dreams. If through practice and meditation his theta waves had reached the capacity to synchronize with hers automatically, it would explain his metabolic mimicry. He had felt hungry and tired because she had been. She also had detected several small fractures in the device. The telepathic energy of the bond must have some influence on the transmitter, tearing it down.

"Why my brain?" Trip wanted to know.

"Judging by the quantity of nanites in your body, you were exposed to a large group of them, I don't think this was meant for you alone, but for everyone working in a certain environment," Doctor Phlox remarked.

T'Pol followed his line of logic. "If you can create a group of people which you can influence without them knowing, you have a force inside your enemy's army that is going to fight for you."

"Like little Trojan horses", Trip said. "If we found the source, we would know more."

There was a moment in the game of Kal'toh when you see where to put your last rod to establish order in chaos. T'Pol felt the same feeling of clarity. The ship. What better environment to reach Starfleet's finest, working on different ships, then on a research facility infected by nano-viruses from a contaminated ship? She shared her idea with Trip and Doctor Phlox that the last place Trip worked might be the source.

Hearing her suggestion, Doctor Phlox outlined his plan. "I will check with the doctor at the facility you last worked for, Commander Tucker and suggest that he examine the crew and if necessary put them in quarantine. Also, I will check everyone who came with you to Headquarters from that facility." With his usual doctor's voice he added, "For the time being, Commander Tucker, it looks from your brainwaves patterns that the device in your brain isn't functioning, but the viruses are still there. On the other hand, they don't appear to be contagious. I will give you a monitor, so I will be notified of any major changes in your brainwaves. Go home, get some rest, get some food. You look exhausted and tomorrow is a long day. Please see me after the 9 o'clock meeting. The same goes for you, Commander T'Pol."

It took some discussion, but at the end they agreed with Doctor Phlox's proposal. Outside the medical facility T'Pol suggested that she would travel to her own place, but Trip said to her that no way he was letting her travel in the dark and his place was close by any way.

On their way back to his apartment, T'Pol told him that the facility was located in an important system. "The Kajani system is used for fast travel, because of the wormhole and the nearby Dosa system contains many planets with valuable materials, like dilithium. Those systems are very useful for a specie that want to increase their power," she told Trip.

"Roads and fuel. Two of the basics of successful war." Trip understood.

Arriving in the apartment, she closed the door and asked Trip, "Is Captain Archer familiar with the ship?"

"Of course, he discovered it! He was traveling from a diplomatic mission with the Taihenne, when he found it on the surface of some planet."

"The Taihenne?"

"Some species that also wanted to join the Coalition. They specifically asked for Captain Archer."

"He entered the ship?"

"Yes, he stayed awhile on ship, did the first investigation and after that he took the initiative to create the facility. It was his pet project."

Apparently, the Captain's pet project had been one big trap. Starfleet had been walking right into it. She wouldn't been surprised if the Taihenne were part of the scheme too.

"You know, T'Pol, I think my memory loss has something to do with all this," Trip mused aloud, interrupting her train of thought. "Maybe I discovered something and that's why someone wiped my memory. I mean, it's no coincidence that all these things we found are directing to a telepathic source," Trip concluded. "Its never been so important for me to remember something and I can't. I haven't got a clue."

"Something similar happened to me once. The memory loss was upsetting, but something else was even more disturbing," T'Pol answered.

"What was the most disturbing?" Trip immediately inquired.

T'Pol hesitated, but then she said, "I think my story can be useful and beneficial for you. The information I am going to give you is classified by Vulcan standards," she told him. "But in a way, being my mate, you have a right to know as his son-in-law."

Trip squeezed his eyes together and turned to her in sudden understanding. "This has something to do with your father? Kov told me that he was an important man on Vulcan. "

For the first time in many years she spoke of the story of her father. "He was murdered. When I came close to the truth behind his death, his murderers made it certain that I didn't remember anything at all."

**Translation of Vulcan words**

Rihannsu - Romulan

Del'haiu - respectful title to address an elderly person.

Gad-eshu'a - nightmare, a dream arousing feelings of intense fear, horror and distress.

Yuk-eshu'a – daydream.

K'avon – feeling of hunger.


	12. Chapter 11 TripT'Pol Fate of a father

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **Trip is called back to Earth and Captain Archer has T'Pol reinstated as Commander on _Enterprise. _Arriving early on Earth, T'Pol waits for Trip and convinces him that he needs a medical exam. During this, they found nanites, microscopic robots in his body, that formed a telepathic transmitter. This device has been interfering with the bond. It also becomes clear Trip was attacked by a telepath a year ago and part of his memory has been erased. T'Pol offers help by sharing her own experience with memory loss which occurred when she was investigating her father's murder.

**Author's note: **Thanks for my beta KKGlinka. My story _Whisper,_ also available on this site, accompanies this chapter. The ENT episode _The Seventh _is put in a different light.

**- 20 years ago, Risa -**

Her communicator chirped and the voice of her team leader was clear, "The suspects are heading your way. Stop them."

"Understood."

She waited, surrounded by green foliage, feeling the damp and warm atmosphere of this part of Risa. Suddenly, she heard footsteps moving in a fast pace, away from her, and she started running toward them, pushing the foliage away, until she saw one of them. He had fallen and aimed his phaser at her. In a split second she saw his eyes. He was ready to shoot. So was she. The sound of her phaser made a flock of birds fly up from the trees. She pointed her phaser at Menos, cries from the birds still in her ears.

"You are never going to shoot me," Menos stated, eyes confident on hers.

She ignored this blatant, intimate gesture, meant to confuse her. "I am going to arrest you," she answered, pointing the phaser at his shoulder. "On your knees, hands behind your head."

The other suspect was laying unconscious at her feet. Menos made a disapproving sound, but slowly obeyed her order. Then she noticed that the birds hadn't returned.

"Something wrong?" Menos asked her from his kneeling position, hands behind his head, with a timbre in his voice that piqued her suspicion further.

She took her scanner, checked their position quickly and used the communicator. "I have found the suspects at marking point 34.6 by 49.7 and request immediate assistance. There is someone else present."

"Clever," Menos muttered and then she smelt someone, close by.

Before she could turn, a ball of light knocked her to the ground. Her left shoulder was on fire and then there was nothing but total blackness.

She was laying on a small mattress, felt the cold and hard floor beneath her. She felt stiff and her left shoulder was sore, as if she had been laying there for a long time. She opened her eyes.

She was in a sparsely decorated room, illuminated by the rays of sunlight. The room was clean, but the old, with slightly deteriorated walls that had let in some desert dust. Her throat was dry, her head was pounding. Her mind was empty. Where was she? She heard footsteps approaching; the owner walked with confidence and care. The door opened and a monk stood in the opening.

"You are awake," he stated.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"At the sanctuary of P'Jem. You were found unconscious and brought here. Can you remember your name?"

She searched her memory. "My name is T'Pol, daughter of Karik and T'Les, of the H'tekri Provence."

"Good," the monk said. "What can you remember of the place you have been?"

For the first time in her life, she felt like logic failed her completely and only irrational, fearful thoughts filled her mind. Her training prevailed and sentence for sentence she found order in the chaos of thoughts. "I was on the planet Risa, chasing down fugitives for the Security Directorate. I was walking through foliage. Green foliage. I found the fugitives. One person aimed his phaser at me. I shot him." She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of the images in her mind. "There was another presence." She looked at the monk's friendly face. "The rest are flashes, too short for me to clearly remember and then a void, total black darkness."

**- Present, San Francisco, Earth. Trip's apartment - **

She and Trip walked into his apartment. Their minds were still on the exam results generated by their investigation: the nanites in Trip's body that had formed a telepathic transmitter and, the evidence of the telepathic assault on Trip a year ago, resulting in his memory loss.

"You know, T'Pol, I think my memory loss has something to do with all this," Trip brought up. "Maybe I discovered something and that's why someone wiped my memory. I mean, it's no coincidence that all these things we found are directing to a telepathic source. It's never been so important for me to remember something and I can't. I haven't got a clue."

"Something similar happened to me once. The memory loss was upsetting, but something else was even more disturbing," she answered.

"What was the most disturbing?" Trip wanted to know.

After a short hesitation she told him "I think my story can be useful and beneficial for you. The information I am going to give you is classified by Vulcan standards. But in a way, being my mate, you have a right to know as his son-in-law."

Trip drew the right conclusion. "This has something to do with your father? Kov told me that he was an important man on Vulcan. "

"He was murdered. When I came close to the truth behind his death, his murderers made certain that I did not remember anything at all."

The astonished look on Trip's face made it clear he was shocked by her recollection. "I know you were very close to your father, and that your mother and you grew apart after his death. You never told me that he was killed," Trip said.

"It is true that I was very close to him," T'Pol answered. "His story will explain why I never told you."

They took a seat in the living room. She began talking about her youth, how her father trained her to meditate, his love for art and literature, how he helped her in so many ways and taught her the great values of Vulcan. Most of all, he accepted and loved her as she was. She hadn't spoken about her father's life to anyone for a long time and while talking she realized how much she still missed him, deep inside of her, and that she liked to share with Trip the unique man that he had been.

"Since he was young, my father looked to the stars and wanted to travel to them. He joined the military and became a captain, investigating different planets and cultures on behalf of the Vulcan government. He became more and more involved in highly classified operations and when we became engaged in war, he proved to be a very useful captain," she told Trip.

"So you're a captain's daughter and your father is like a war hero?"

"He was not a hero. He did his duty. He helped Vulcans who lived on several colonies to escape the threats of war," she explained. "At one time, we were involved with two wars. My father pleaded that the best way to protect our planet and our people, was by having allies. My father was elected into the Vulcan senate. Together with the government, he started to reach out to several planets, in secret, to see if they were willing to form coalitions. He always thought that Earth was going to be a good ally and that we should try our very best to create a good working relationship with that culture. Later on, one of his closest friends became ambassador to Earth. You know this friend."

"Soval," Trip guessed. "I thought Vulcans were a peaceful race. I'm surprised your people were engaged in war so many times."

Somewhat reluctantly, she answered his implicit question. She knew, logically, Trip had a point and she thought of ways to explain the attitude of her father's generation to him. "Many of our conflicts were with the Andorians about certain Vulcan colonies, but also with other species along our borders. When you expand your horizon and become involved in different systems, the chances of war heighten. I also believe Vulcan was more astray from Surak's teachings than we are in this present state. In a way, my father's suggestion was more in line with his philosophy."

She went on with her story, "One of the planets we tried to establish an alliance with, was called Agaron. We had some difficulties because of the high rate of criminal activity on that planet. The Agaron government asked us to help them to establish a more civilized order on their planet and rid it of these criminals. Vulcan agents were sent to infiltrate the criminal cells to help bring those people to justice. They were isolated from Vulcan for a long time. The Vulcan Ministry of Security discovered that some of those agents became criminals themselves. We learned that another species had contacted them, persuading them to convert to another lifestyle and work for them."

"My father heard that a man called Menos was contacted by this race and that he was willing to talk. My father arranged a secret mission to meet Menos on the planet of Teley in the Dosa-system. I still remember his _el'ru'esta _before he left. He told me to follow my path and behave like a true daughter of his would."

"What is an el'rusta?" Trip asked.

She took his hand and crossed their hands at the wrist so that their palms touched. "It is called _el'ru'esta. _This is the way Vulcans embrace_._"

She felt a soft tingling, like a breeze on her face. Featherlight, alien yet familiar emotions touched her _katra_. Almost like a whisper of affection. She felt her Vulcan blood flooding in her veins, pushing, tempting her to join an _ozh-esta _with Trip, to let him feel her strong affection for him. "_This is not the time_," she thought, placing her feelings under iron Vulcan logic. "_He is recovering. His mind has been invaded. He does not want this. This is not the time."_

Yet, instinctively, she placed her fingers in the right position and showed him the other unique Vulcan gesture ."This is _ozh-estra_, also to show your affection. They are not merely gestures, but work in conjunction with a bond. More than words. It depends on the intensity of your emotions."

For the briefest moment, she felt a stab of pain and hurt in her mind, so intense that it almost made her nauseous. When she glanced at Trip's face, it looked like stone. There was a sadness emanating from him and anger set lines around his mouth rigid as iron. They softened when she continued, "You can withhold your feelings when you join the _ozh-estra_" - a quick thought of Koss ran through her mind - "or let your inner feelings flow freely through the _ozh-estra._"

"Seems pretty intense to me," Trip commented, without his normal warmth, but nevertheless, his features had softened.

"Everything we do, we do with great intensity. When we share affection, it is affection to its fullest," she explained gently. "Like my affection for you."

His whole body relaxed and the last bit of coldness disappeared. He turned toward her and ran his hand gently through the streaks of her hair, his face close enough to kiss her. She stayed silent, fixating on his eyes, where a soft glimmer of affection shone.

There was more, in his eyes and in the way the corners of his mouth were lifted in a smile, something hinting at triumph or pride, mixed with relief and amusement. It strongly reminded her of the time they just had discovered they were bonded. He surprised her when he simply stroked her cheek with two fingers, up and down softly, before taking her hand. It was almost a Vulcan way of shared affection. She accepted his touch without hesitation and fear and all the events of Lethizeh seemed far away.

For a minute she had been in a different world, they both were. She took a moment to regain herself, when she heard Trip saying, "I'm assuming your father's mission went sour."

"Yes, when he left for the mission, my father took with him his team, men and women that he trusted with his whole heart. Many of them were people who I have known since I was a child. Some of them I saw as brothers and sisters I never had."

In her mind she saw the faces of Linan, Soval's son, Perith, who taught her the basics of science, Mirith, her English teacher, L'tal, M'het, P'tal, Hev, Mok... all those good men and women.

"We don't know what happened," she said to Trip, "but it was a trap. After a few days of silence, a message came. It contained images of my father's ship, under attack. You could see the whole ship as it blew into pieces."

She had been determined to see the footage for herself. "The images made a deep impression on me and I have suppressed them effectively, but sometimes the memories resurface and I relive them again." Thoughts of her emotional behavior during the attack on _Enterprise_ near Azati Prime crossed her mind. She remembered finding the book _The Teachings of Surak, _one of her father's favorite books, and the emotions it evoked. "Often at inconvenient moments."

"With the message, there was also a package. It was a body part from my father." T'Pol released her grip on Trip's hand and with her finger she pointed to the sharp point at the end of her ear.

"They cut off his ear?" Trip was shocked and repulsed by the idea.

"The _kaluk-sfek_. The tip of his ear."

Taking her hand again, Trip went silent, as if he wanted time to process the information. "Is the tip of the male ear as sensitive as that of a female?" he asked, wanting to get the whole picture.

In their good times, Trip used to tease her about her sensitive ears. She quickly suppressed that memory and she answered the question. "The ear of a male is sensitive to a lesser degree, but you could say that the procedure performed on my father is extremely painful. When not properly treated, nerve necrosis as it nears the brain can lead to death. A year after he went missing, my mother became seriously ill. After this, she told me that my father had died. I didn't fully understand then, but now that I have experienced the bond myself, I believe she felt his distress and their bond withered away, which led her to that conclusion."

She now saw the time her mother grieved her father in a different light.

"You have to understand, none of this is spoken. In Vulcan society we do not speak about such intimate things. I wish my mother had been more open. Losing a loved one is painful, with or without the bond, but I could have understood the loss of the bond with my father, with you and..." her voice faltered a bit, "with our daughter better. "

She was convinced her daughter had bonded with her parents. The horrifying thought that her daughter had been alone in a cold crib, surrounded by evil men was eased by the comfort that she at least had felt her parents' presence. T'Pol only wished she could have spent more time with her. She felt a river of pain and sadness rise in her. Without a word, Trip understood her mood.

"How did you deal with it," he inquired. He reached out to touch her again, this time smoothing his hand down her shoulder and back. He caressed her spine, comforting and consoling at the same time. She noticed that it also had a calming effect on him.

She knew exactly what he meant. "I didn't. Before I went to prison, it was a troubled time, but at least we could grieve together." She turned her head and looked at him, thankful for his support during those days. "Alone, I tried more meditating. I also made a _vokau _and light her candle to remember her every day in Lethizeh and the days after._"_

"You finished your_ vokau_?" Trip asked gently.

"I used the colors you suggested."

He smiled weakly. His voice was filled with fatherly pride, a tone that always gave her a stab in her _katra, _when he said, "Pink is her color."

She shallowed. "Remember how I told you that Vulcans suppress grief, because it consumes them?"

He nodded.

"The last couple of weeks, grief did consume me. Not only the sadness, but also the rage. Against these cruel people of Terra Prime. It is a rage I must control before I hurt someone. I do need to control my emotions, but I also wanted to mourn her. Because when I suppress, it seems like my daughter is forgotten. And she never is."

She looked at Trip, he looked so sad and serious. "I never thought you'd forgotten her, not for a minute, T'Pol. The same goes for me. There is not a single day, when I don't think about our daughter," he said.

She released her hand and used two fingers to stroke his cheek. She thought about the symbols on the _vokau, _how they all were a testimony of the love she and Trip had for their daughter. "She is loved," she whispered. Her words sounded like an echo of the past, when she had told Trip their daughter was important.

"She is," Trip confirmed, taking her hand, kissing the top of her fingers. It provoked a deep feeling in her and once again she became aware how much she cared for him.

They sat there in silence, holding hands, comforting each other in that way, like they had a year ago. A whole year became full circle. Outside it became lighter. The darkness of the night disappeared slowly and holding hands, they saw the break of dawn. For a moment, there was a comfortable tranquility and nothing was audible, except the noises of a new day: the whistling of birds and the sound of early traffic.

Eventually, Trip broke the mutual silence and asked her, "So what happened after your father passed away?"

With some effort, she concentrated on telling the story and continued, "My mother and I grew apart after my father's death. I wanted to honor my father and find employment that would help me discover what really happened to him. So I joined the military and later the Ministry of Security. Thirteen years after the events of Teley, we found out that Menos was hiding in Risa, smuggling synthetic biotoxion to manufacture transgenic weapons. A team was sent to bring him back to Vulcan to face charges and I was one of the team members. I chased him down in the tropical zone in Risa."

Flashes of her running though foliage flashed in her mind.

"He had company. A young person named Jossen. He was aiming to kill me, so in self defense I shot Jossen. That is the last thing I remember. When I regained conscious, I was in the sanctuary of P'Jem, with my memory of Risa erased. Jossen was found dead; it looked as if I had killed him. Menos had disappeared. "

She didn't speak for a moment, remembering when she woke up with a totally empty mind. "They took something away from me, that was mine alone. My memory. They violated my mind. I needed that information they took, to find the murderers of my father, but my mind stayed empty. The facts were gone, but the emotions remained, running loose without logical guidance or cause."

Trip rubbed his neck with one hand. His mouth was tight again and he exchanged an embittered look with her. "It's a rotten feeling. I was attacked, but I lost and they stole my memory. Like you said, violating and taking a piece of yourself and not only that, they hurt you, T'Pol, and will hurt others."

"There is more, to serve as further warning. I thought that my attempt on Risa was the last chance to capture Menos, but when I was on _Enterprise_ I got reassigned to this task again."

"When was this?" Trip asked.

"In my second year on_ Enterprise, _17 years after my memory loss. The Ministry contacted me to inform me that they had detected Menos on Pernaia Prime and because _Enterprise _was close by the Pernaia system, I was asked to finish my assignment. During my training, it was stressed never to go on a mission alone. I had noticed that I did harbor a certain attraction to you, so I asked the captain to join me. The captain is less observant than you when it comes to me."

She had concealed the full truth about the events on Risa and P'Jem, telling the captain that the priests had erased her memory. She left out the fact that a mysterious intruder on Risa had tampered with her mind which was, after all, classified information.

Trip winced. "It always bugged me that no one told me anything besides that is was a secret, classified mission. You ran off with the captain and I didn't know a thing."

"I remember you wanted to know more, in case of an emergency."

He snorted. "It was a bit more then that." He paused. "I already liked you and you shut me out. Trusted the captain more then me. Always hated that."

Automatically, she raised an eyebrow. "I can not remember you expressing that resentment toward me."

"I'm not the only one who is good at hiding their feelings," he remarked.

"Indeed," she said. They had discussed how they had been attracted to each other from the very start, but she never thought that he would dislike her trip with the captain so much. She remembered how they drifted apart after that event. Deep inside she had regretted it, but logically she thought then it had been for the best. Thoughts of a certain princess came to mind, something that had always irked her. She had to applaud herself for not showing at all what she had felt, at that time.

"I needed someone less observant," she restated. "The captain likes to work on a friendly basis, so I tried too, but he is only interested in my wellbeing when it affects my efficiency as his first officer. If I were to act strangely or change my appearance, you would notice. He would not. "

Trip pointed to her new haircut with chestnut streaks and smiled. "I like your streaks. Look nice on you."

"You confirmed my theory." Reluctantly she added, "Would I not have lost your trust when you found out that I had been working for the Ministry of Security and was basically a spy?"

"I think you know me better by now," he answered. He had a gleam of amusement in his eyes when he added, "You being a spook is kind of... interesting."

Sometimes she feared she would never understand this man.

"So what happened on Pernaia Prime," he asked, back to the topic at hand.

"After we arrived, we found Menos easily," she answered. "I had this overwhelming, illogical fear that I would hurt Menos and doubts about killing Jossen. I felt almost paralyzed. Killing in self defense is a logical action. Yet all my logic seemed to be gone; I acted like a young ensign on a first away mission and was almost begging the captain to help me. I have far more experience than he and I have dealt with situations like this before. My companions didn't sense that something was wrong, but I later decided that my behavior was strange. My conclusion was that it had to do with my memory loss, that Menos triggered something, even after all those years. The priests at the sanctuary of P'Jem tried to restore my memory through meditation without any result, but it seemed that the accompanying emotions were still there, running unfettered."

"Skipping in place like a PADD with a malfunction," Trip understood.

She had the feeling he could sense her discomfort talking about her memory loss, when he changed the subject by asking her what happened to Menos.

"Menos was caught, but he could not tell much. He killed himself. This is unlike anything a Vulcan would do and he also had a family. It led me to believe that he was more afraid of the people he used to work for than of the Vulcan government. So afraid, that he preferred death."

Trip moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. "Did your memory wipe have any other effects? I mean, you're fine now?"

"Yes," she answered, leaning toward him, her head resting on his upper chest, feeling his steady breathing beneath her. It was a Human tendency to gain comfort in physical contact, she mused, but it was comforting for her as well.

She was amazed how quickly they seemed to connect again and how easily she accepted his touch.

"So, someone has been messing with your mind, like mine. They have infected me with by nanites, influenced me with telepathic waves, attacked me and fried my brain," Trip summed up. "I've been a captive of my mind and there are people out there like me, prisoners of their own body and mind. There must be a way to find the truth. Did you ever try other methods besides meditation? I remember when Phlox was abducted, you mind-melded with Hoshi to see her memories."

She slowly moved away from him. "I am still a novice when it comes to mind-melds, Trip. I know from my own experience how careful you must be and how horrifying it is when someone touches your mind without permission. It's a violation of your _katra_ and it is not easy healed. There is some wisdom in the old Vulcan tradition of being reluctant to use our telepathic abilities, because we do not want to violate someone," she refuted. Thoughts of the Suliban that tortured her and Tolaris crossed her mind. "This is what happened to you. A mind-meld or any telepathic activity is not advisable in your condition, in my opinion, but I want know who is responsible for this as much as you do. Especially knowing that others are influenced by the nanites. The Ambassador told me that he suspects Captain Archer is also a victim. His behavior is labeled as suspicious."

"Archer," Trip interrupted her. "That would explain a few things. We're in a bigger mess then I thought." He considered for a second. "There's more, isn't there?"

"It does not fit logic, so it's probably my own failure to process certain emotions," she responded.

"Tell me," he urged.

"When I thought about the captain's behavior, I discovered you had been acting different too. Suddenly I knew that a woman with blue eyes had attacked and hurt you. It sounds illogical."

"A dangerous, blue-eyed secret agent? Sounds more like Mal's type," he joked weakly.

"She hurt you." T'Pol heard her own voice, grim and clipped.

Trip looked at her, slightly amused. "Don't mess with a Vulcan. Everything you do, is with great intensity, right? You're not the only one. We'll find her."

He stood up. "I need a break. The last few hours have been overwhelming. What if I make breakfast, while you take a good, hot shower? Your love for them hasn't change in a year, I'll bet."

She nodded.

Such an expenditure of water was considered wasteful on Vulcan, and it remained a luxury to her. When she was finished and dressed, T'Pol went to the kitchen. They had bought some food on their way to the apartment and Trip was cutting some fruits and placing them in a bowl.

The early sunlight caught on Trip's hair, making it look even more blond than before. She followed the expression on his face, his blue eyes, that could spark and sadden, his mouth, as always revealing his emotions. He was a unique combination of strength and tenderness. He always accepted her Vulcan heritage while simultaneously challenging it. He was her opposite in many ways and in others they were the same. Together they were more than the sum of their parts. She felt a urge to touch his face tenderly, to stroke his hair, to kiss him and feel the passion of their embrace, but she didn't move. Deep down inside she was overwhelmed with the joy of having Trip back in her life.

He turned to her. His eyes roamed over her face and petite body. She had seen men look at her before. Some with contempt, some with indifference, some with lust, some with respect. They never looked like Trip did. It was a mixture of appreciation, tenderness, pride and amusement.

When they started eating, she glanced at the chronometer and told Trip she hadn't much time left. She had a meeting scheduled with the Ambassador - before the 9.00 o'clock crew gathering at Starfleet Headquarters.

Trip nodded, took a bite from his pancake and started talking. "Things just run through my mind," he said, "bit surprised by what you told me and how open your were."

"I always thought of our conversations as stimulating."

"I'm not talking about Surak's teachings, new theories on micro-singularities or discussing ship's business. You never told me so much about your youth and family, until now."

"I thought my experience would be helpful," for a moment confused why past events that couldn't be changed would affect his judgment of her character. Then she recalled that the act of sharing personal information, sometimes trivial, was a key component of Human relationships. It had surprised her how quickly Humans talked about their family and how easily they called someone a friend. For a Vulcan, that could take years, building a trust, little by little sharing personal information.

"It was, but I think there's more going on," Trip answered. "Remember how I told you that after the pain caused us to break our connection in white space, I had this massive headache and that the medication of the Tellarite doctor knock me out? When I woke up, I felt great. Happy, relaxed, free. I thought the bond was gone, so I felt somewhat guilty about thinking that life without the bond wasn't that bad, but..."

She was suddenly overwhelmed by crippling fatigue. Anxious, she searched for ways to control that emotion. She could understand him not wanting the bond and the last thing she wanted was to force him into something he didn't want.

Trip noticed it. "You're upset," he stated, worried.

"You are very observant," she simply replied.

"I do want this bond, T'Pol," he emphasized. "That's what I am trying to tell you. When I met you again, things just clicked. I was happy to be with you and slowly, I could feel you again. I can feel you're upset."

"I did not do any _Vulcan_ thing to reinstate it," she said, more sharply then she had in mind.

Trip chose to ignore it. "It looks like the bond reinstated naturally, when we started spending time together."

"According to the theories..."

"You can't theorize something like our bond, T'Pol. Nor analyze it or pick it apart in little pieces for close examination. Especially when there's a Human side to it. We bond by spending time together. Vulcans do too. I can't think of our bond being just the result of a one night stand. It's much more than that."

"That would be a logical conclusion. Vulcan traditions like the one in which married couples spend their first year together would support your theory," she said.

"The best of both worlds. Important for both of us. I remember you seemed to like the idea being bonded with me."

'Like' was such a Human word. She thought about the moment after she had told Trip she wanted him back and he had said that he already asked for a transfer, ending their conversation with the remark that they had a lot of work to do. She had been pleased. Very pleased. "It offered opportunities."

"Opportunities?"

"For us to have a relationship," she said. _That's all I ever wanted_, she thought.

She remembered her first sense of attraction to Trip, how she thought it was better to ignore it. Her pain that she wanted to understand him, but didn't. She could hardly believe he would love her, feared that his affection was fleeting. He demanded things that she didn't seem to be able to give and if he was giving clues, they were confusing. She claimed him like she thought Humans did, following Vulcan instincts. She pushed him away, feeling inadequate, like she had been for other Vulcans that judged her harshly for being different.

She lashed out with her tongue, out of fear, confusion or simply because she was angry that he challenged her, annoyed her and was a whirlwind in her orderly life. She let him into her life, cared for him, let him visit her family. To one of her people, those were all clear signs that she was interested in him, more, that she harbored great affection for him, but T'Pol wondered if Trip had understood that. She wanted this path with him, but it seemed so unVulcan, growing more astray from her Vulcan roots. Until the bond showed her a relationship with Trip was the most Vulcan thing to do.

She summed up her thoughts when she said, "The bond is part of a close Vulcan relationship and therefore necessary for me. When I was in Lethizeh, everything that I owned and was, was taken away from me. I came back and realized that the one thing I was focused on was you. The bond is a sign that we want to be together. Our hearts are not so different, but our languages and backgrounds are. Often we don't understand each other, which is difficult, but we persist in trying. That is logical, because of how the bond works. I always thought our relationship was strained, because I did not follow the Vulcan path, but this is my path, my bond to you."

There was a silence, before she added, "You called me sweet, but I am not. I realize my flaws and there were painful times. Caused by me."

"We already discussed that, T'Pol," he answered. "It's not that I sometimes wanted to walk away from you - in fact I did - or stop caring so much about you. Deep down, I knew you cared for me. I remember the good times too - I sure hope they're here to stay - and I don't want to look back. Not after being apart a year and missing each other. Besides, there's too much of a good thing going on right now."

She had felt some of his pain during their conversation, but he had chosen not to confront her. To protect her. For the first time, she could understand why Trip hadn't fought her when she was about to marry Koss. She had reached the logical conclusion that he did not care enough for her to do anything to stop it. Now she saw it in a different light. She had put her own desires aside, faithful to the creed that her own needs were nothing in comparison to the needs of the many. He had done this as well, giving up his own wishes and love for her sake.

It was time for her to take action, to tell him her only logical conclusion after everything that had been said and done. She wanted to say it deliberately in plain English. Even if the words tasted alien to her, they would not for him.

"I love you," she said. Her words hung in the air and she thought they had failed to express what she wanted to say. So she kissed him.

He kissed her back, pulled her away and urged her, "Kiss me."

"I did," she answered, confused.

"Kiss me the Vulcan way."

She searched his eyes and knew he was sure. The moment their fingers met, she let the stream of emotions flow through the bond. Fierce emotions, sweet, strong, passionate, protective, caring, patience, unselfishness. She was ready to withdraw with the first sign of alarm, but Trip closed his eyes. And embraced her. In their minds.

When the clouds of their white space vanished, they found themselves standing in the kitchen. Trip held her firmly and his mouth was searching hers. He kissed her with a desire and a passion that was matched by hers. After a few tender kisses were shared, he left a trail of kisses on her neckline, before burying his face in her neck.

"Soft skin, the smell of you," he said in a husky voice, "Missed you so much." Then he kissed her again and she felt his passion and desire and her longing rise with every kiss.

They ended up enforcing a slower pace, trying to eat breakfast again. Needless to say, they hardly ate a thing. Trip took every opportunity to kiss her. She felt the stubble on his cheeks, brushing against her sensitive skin.

"You need to shave," she told him, between two kisses.

He grinned. "I need to kiss my wife," he said and kissed her again. "Maybe I'll grow a beard. Or a goatee."

"You want to look like a goat?" she said, thinking that Trip with a long straggly beard was not aesthetically appealing, causing Trip to burst into laughter.

She let the matter rest, because the chronometer was telling her it was time to leave. So, reluctantly, she put some distance between them and reminded him of her appointment with Ambassador Soval.

"Like the old days," he commented dryly. "We can't get a break, without being interrupted by red alert or some duty call. I'm surprised Phlox hasn't called in or that this monitor hasn't started beeping. So what are you going to tell Ambassador Soval?"

"That Commander Tucker has returned to normalcy," she answered.

His laugh was still in her ears, when she took a shuttle cab on a street nearby, flying her to her beach house to meet the Ambassador. She barely made it in time, but she gave her report, listened to the Ambassador's advice and gathered her personal belongings. The Ambassador insisted on accompanying her to the meeting at Starfleet Headquarters.

When she arrived, the Captain had already started. Standing before the door, they heard him say, "Before we go into details about the mission, there is a change in the bridge crew. The Vulcans have asked us to add a liaison to our crew and Starfleet has agreed."

"As long they don't put a mental hook in your head, Captain," a unknown women said. "I've heard…."

At that moment they both stepped in and she heard the Ambassador speaking to the unknown women who sat next to Trip.

"Ambassador," the Captain greeted. The Ambassador returned his greeting and Captain Archer introduced her to the crew. "Malcolm, Trip, Hoshi, I think you all know Commander T'Pol."

"Reporting for duty, sir," she said. "Thank you for accompanying me, Ambassador."

The Ambassador greeted everyone and left the room.

"Good to see you again, Commander. Glad you could join us." Lieutenant-Commander Reed smiled at her. The others also greeted her, she took a seat, and the meeting started. She noticed that the unknown women stared at Trip from time to time with obvious adoration on her face. It irritated her to no end.

She listened and made notes. When she looked up and surreptitiously checked on Trip, remembering the early hours of this day, he brushed his hands along both sides of his clean shaved cheeks. She had already noticed. Next time less aftershave was advisable. Trip looked at her, clearly amused, but she noticed their interaction was being watched by the Captain. He didn't look pleased and asked Trip a question, which he answered without any hesitation. When the meeting was over, Doctor Phlox came to her, asking her to join her at the Medical Facility. She thought Trip would follow, but apparently his fellow crew mates were keeping him occupied.

In the Medical Facility, Doctor Phlox contacted Doctor Green again. Doctor Green was the doctor working at the research facility, who investigated the contaminated ship. He confirmed that the crew members left behind were also infected with the nanites.

"It didn't look like it had much effect on the crew members I checked," Doctor Green remarked, "but one hour ago, one of them became very ill. If I can't treat him properly, he's going to die. Since he's Vulcan, I'm unsure how to treat him. Maybe you could help me?"

"So, Doctor Green, this deathly ill crew mate on your facility is a Vulcan? I thought you had only Human crew members," Doctor Phlox inquired.

His remark was apparently overheard by Trip, who had just stepped into the Medical Facility, clearly irritated. The same name came to both his and her mind, only Trip put that name into words. "Oh no! Kov."

**Translation of Vulcan words**

Kaluk-sfek – the tip of the ear.

Vokau - plate, made of stone in memory of a loved one.

El'ru'esta – hand embrace, used as embrace for husband and family.

Ozh'esta – finger embrace, used between bondmates.


	13. Chapter 12 Phlox little Trojan horses

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 12**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **After the events of Terra Prime, T'Pol was sent to prison. Upon their return, Trip, T'Pol and Phlox discover that Trip and other members of Starfleet are infected by nanites from a contaminated Romulan ship. Additionally, Trip was attacked by a telepath a year ago and part of his memory was wiped.

**Author's note: **Thanks to my beta KKGlinka and to Kevin Thomas Riley for checking Swedish facts. This chapter is from Doctor Phlox's point of view. Some quotes are from the ENT-episode _Terra Prime_ and a reference is made to the episode _The Aenar._

**January, 2155 – Sickbay on the starship **_**Enterprise **_**- **

There was nothing he could do. His little patient, in the incubator in front of him, struggled more and more to simply breath. Everything was silent, including the animals of his sickbay. Only the beeping of the monitor could be heard, representing a pulse, slowly becoming weaker. A sinking feeling filled him. He had experienced it before, a long time ago, when he saw the casualties of a cargo ship explosion; when he looked into the eyes of refugees on Matalas; in the last minutes of Sim. That feeling of helplessness that froze a person to the bones.

He had people die in his arms and he had mourned them. He had seen battlefields covered with dead and wounded. The sadness he was feeling now, was of a different kind, more personal. Like the time he had seen Sim's life slowly fading away. Sim had changed him in so many ways.

In the first years of his tenure on _Enterprise _he had been so sure about what was right or wrong, what he could do as a doctor. Of course, he had regretted once or twice a decision that he had made, he wasn't perfect. Other than that, he knew the crew could benefit greatly from his knowledge. He had advised the captain on many occasions. He kept his distance like a good doctor and observer would. He had withheld the plague cure from the Vakalians, because he firmly believed in the survival of the fittest. Evolution must take his course and the Menk were the stronger species, destined – by whom? By what? - to survive and not the Vakalians. Life had a way of showing that it couldn't be boxed within nice little theories, not even scientific ones. When Sim sacrificed his own life to save others, he learned that the hard way.

Now he saw the elder version – the real version of Sim - a man he had came to like and respect, standing next to the incubator, looking at the child, desperately hoping she would be well again.

It was hard to believe she was a product of cloning, of medical techniques and abused possibilities. A child born out of cruel ideology – only to wind up being loved by her unwitting parents. Not for the first time, he saw the dark side of medical advancement and realized again the responsibilities doctors had.

The woman next to Commander Tucker had the same look in her eyes. T'Pol was his companion of Human studies - a woman, so different from him, alien to him, as he was alien to her - but still Phlox had came to value her friendship greatly. On the incubator, a medallion was hung and when T'Pol had placed it there, Tucker had nodded in perfect understanding.

The baby girl was clinging to life with every breath, her parents standing by her side, supporting and watching her. Before his eyes a picture of love was painted, reflected in Tucker and T'Pol's faces, seen in their gentle gestures toward the child, a better medicine for heart and soul then any doctor could have provided.

Standing behind him was the captain.

"I wish I could do more," he said to him.

"I know," the captain answered.

"When you invited me to join this crew, I thought it would be an interesting diversion for a few months. Some time away from the complications of family, which on Denobula can be extremely complicated. I didn't expect to gain another family," he explained. He was close to tears. "It hurts as if she were my own child. Make something good come from this, Captain."

In the year that followed, Phlox often thought of his plea to the captain. Behind his smile, he bore the sober realization that soon thereafter unity withered away and division poured in, not only in the Coalition, but also in Starfleet. Nothing good seemed to have come out of this ordeal, especially for Commanders Tucker and T'Pol.

Only a few days were given to them before a storm of investigations blew them away. The gatherings, discussing the outcome of the investigation of Terra Prime by Starfleet Internal Affairs and Intelligence, ended up in an inquiry about the relationship between Commanders Tucker and T'Pol. It made him increasingly uncomfortable. So, he made sure to have a quick word with the captain before yet one other of those meetings started.

"Captain, I understand the need for Starfleet to gather as much information as possible about Terra Prime, but as a doctor it's my opinion that too much strain is being put on Commanders Tucker and T'Pol. They are both grieving and in a very emotionally fragile state," he started to explain.

Archer didn't see the problem. Referring to the conference Tucker and T'Pol had attended after that fateful hour in sickbay, he said "They seem to be doing alright, doctor. They went to the conference afterward and gave their speeches. They are professionals and trained to work under stress."

He felt vehemently otherwise. "Commander T'Pol left the minute she could in an abrupt manner, a clear sign from someone who knows her as I do, and I have spoken with Commander Tucker about the conference. He hardly remembered being there."

The investigation meeting that followed was a nightmare. He refuted any accusation that he should have reported T'Pol's illness. Afterward, he speculated in his mind if he should have done anything differently. He still thought he made the right decision, but he regretted that he hadn't put T'Pol on medical leave when she told him about her addiction. It would have spared her a lot of misery. He never let anyone see his doubts or to look beyond his professional face.

After the meeting, he had been disturbed, but still optimistic. He expected some solution to be found, especially when he heard from Lieutenant Reed about Commander Tucker's efforts to help T'Pol. Never did he suspect that T'Pol's addiction and her relationship with Tucker would lead to a prison sentence. He only got a reprimand. She had to serve time. Phlox lost a very dear friend and he had missed her.

In a way, he lost two dear friends. The moment T'Pol was gone, Tucker was too. He was still there, but kept his distance. The commander sometimes looked at Phlox, reserved, with a tad of anger, like he was blaming him for a part for what happened to T'Pol. He wasn't surprised when he heard that Tucker had chosen another physician to do his regular check-ups.

He still had two other friends left from the _Enterprise_ crew, Hoshi and the captain. The captain had been irritated that he was kept in the dark about T'Pol's addiction. As a doctor he had an obligation not to break patient-doctor confidentiality, but Archer had a different opinion, citing a need to know if any member of his command staff was compromised. Privately, Phlox wondered how the captain could have remained so oblivious to his executive officer's systematic change in behavior. Still, when they spoke, which due to Archer's busy working schedule was hardly ever, his attitude was friendly.

Hoshi was another story. He met her on a regular basis. She liked to practice the several dialects of Denobulan on him and she was very good in his native tongue. They also exchanged the latest Starfleet gossip, including some about her.

"Rumor is, that you started dating Lieutenant Reed," he brought up during one of their meals together.

Hoshi had giggled. "Don't think too much of it. We're just spending time together."

He always thought that was the definition of dating. Every time she brought Malcolm up, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining like stars. The relationship was blooming, which was kind of a surprise to him. Phlox hadn't really thought of them as a couple, technical definitions of dating aside.

But, he had learned his lesson and had become reluctant to interfere with Human relationships. In spite of his psychology degree, he had first thought that T'Pol and the captain would make a nice couple, totally ignoring the possibility that the captain would never fully accept T'Pol due to his strong racial prejudice. Moreover, she wasn't his type. She annoyed him more than he was willing to admit, but most of all, Archer would never see past her Vulcan heritage.

Phlox came to notice that T'Pol seemed to care about Tucker a lot and he even spotted what appeared to be a mutual attraction. In their third year on the ship, Tucker needed cognitive behavioral therapy to combat insomnia and Vulcan neuropressure seemed a perfect solution. T'Pol also would benefit from neuropressure, because of her Pa'Nar syndrome, which had become worse in the Expanse. Tucker needed the listening ear that she would invariably provide. T'Pol could use someone to talk to as well. What better solution than to let T'Pol help Tucker with neuropressure sessions? He enjoyed playing matchmaker, a comfortingly Denobulan practice, but based on the results, his idea worked too well.

So he listened without comment when Hoshi told him about her visit with Malcolm to a museum, a theater play and the movies they saw together. Her recounting became less enthusiastic, as time passed by. During one of their conversations, it became clear to him that the relationship was in trouble. In the midst of her story about an event she and Reed attended, she said, "He just seems to freeze up every time I try to be close to him."

"Freeze?" he asked.

"He says he's okay with our relationship, but becomes uncomfortable when I kiss him goodnight. He never seems fully at ease with me. His body never totally relaxes."

"He is a security officer," was his solution.

Hoshi smiled shortly. "If we were together on a mission or working on the ship, I could understand. Sometimes..." She stopped and looked down at her plate. Then she lifted her head and said to him, "A couple of months ago he said that from all the people he could choose I was the best choice."

"That's a flattering compliment," he remarked.

"It's not, Doctor Phlox. It almost comes across like he's only with me because there aren't many people available for him to choose from. Like it was mostly convenient."

"In Denobulan culture convenience is a good reason to choose a partner. The wives and husbands need to work together, so we look closely for compatibility over chance preference."

"On Earth too, but not this way," she said with such conviction, that he feared that the relationship between Hoshi and Reed wasn't going to be long lived.

One day, she told him, noticeably irritated, that she had a big argument with Malcolm about her accepting "her chance of a life time" assignment in Brazil. From that time forward, she only talked about her Brazilian friends, so he assumed the relationship was over, as far he could follow Human relationship customs.

For him, that was the end of the story. Phlox never asked her about it and Hoshi seemed doing well. He did see less of her, because of her assignment in Brazil, but from time to time Hoshi made a short visit to Starfleet Headquarters and she always called him on those occasions for a lunch appointment. During one of those lunches she asked him out of the blue what he had heard about Reed.

Before he could answer, she spouted, "I heard that he's dating some woman who lives in San Francisco. I couldn't believe it! Malcolm of all people. He hadn't gotten a date in years before we started dating and now he's seeing someone else so soon? It must have been a mistake." Hoshi cut herself off, desperately trying to whirl spaghetti around her fork.

"I haven't heard anything, but he probably learned a lot about Human dating practice from his time with you. You're a capable teacher," he said cheerfully.

Hoshi didn't share his optimism, giving him a disgruntled look after his remark. "Great," she mumbled.

"In a way, this was to be expected," he replied, slightly confused. Wasn't she the one who ended their relationship in the midst of the fight? He gave her an encouraging smile. "Lieutenant Reed is single and has admirable qualities. If he has found someone, we can see this as the natural course of things."

Phlox liked Hoshi, she was a warm and kind young women, who had grown in her capacity as communication officer. Her contagious optimism was one of the reasons he enjoyed her company. Now her face showed no sign of optimism at all. In fact he never seen her so gloomy as she looked now.

"I don't expect you to understand," she said softly before deliberately changing the subject.

Of all the senior officers, Malcolm Reed was the one with whom he'd had very little opportunity to form a professional relationship. Reed hardly ever visited sickbay, aside from his regular immunizations, and their interactions were always short. He was a man that kept to himself, colds or any medical inconvenience, he endured alone, without the help of a doctor.

He respected the man, a capable officer and a good friend for Commander Tucker. He knew from his friendship with Tucker that Reed was fully able to smile or laugh, but to tell the truth, he never witnessed it. In his eyes, Malcolm Reed was a serious, dedicated man and laughing out loud was not his thing. Until that moment at Madame Chang's.

He was sitting in his favorite Chinese restaurant on a quiet Thursday night, waiting for his egg drop soup to arrive, when the baritone sound of a man laughing caught his attention. Phlox looked up. The laughter came from a man, dressed in a light blue suit, a few tables away from him. It took him a minute to realize he was staring at the back of Lieutenant Reed. The security officer blocked his view of his company, but he did see a mass of blond hair and part of a slightly green dress.

He stared at the couple and then his curiosity led them to their table. "It seems to me, you also appreciate the delicacies of Madame Chang's," he began in conversation. "It's nice to see you again, Lieutenant. How are you?"

Reed turned around. "Doctor Phlox! I heard you're working at the main Starfleet Medical Facility. Starfleet assigned me to some very interesting projects at several departments. Quite enjoyable I may add, so, to answer your question, I'm doing well."

He introduced him to his companion. "Rianna, this is Doctor Phlox, the chief medical officer aboard _Enterprise_." Then he nodded at Phlox and said, "Doctor, this is Rianna Thott from Sweden, she's working at Letech company in San Francisco."

He extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Thott."

Rianna looked at him and for a split second he had a feeling that she regarded him with such disgust and hatred, that he was taken aback. The next moment, that impression faded, when Rianna smiled warmly at him, shook his hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Doctor Phlox. You have also found your way to Madame Chang's kitchen." She spoke the same dialect of English as Malcolm, but her accent gave away she wasn't a native English speaker.

"I have not only found it, I love her food and come here regularly. In fact, Chinese food was one of the reasons I stayed on Earth," he responded.

"Asian food is always very good. Did you ever try Thai or Japanese? Japanese food is kind of bland compared with Thai or Chinese. It takes time to get used to it, but it's very tasteful and healthy."

"Rianna is into healthy food," Reed remarked, casting a teasing look at her. "The truth is, I had to convince her that Madame Chang's is healthy too."

"He has such a hard time with his healthy girlfriend," she teased back. "At least we both like sweet desserts."

Phlox let their interaction pass by and answered Rianna's question. "I like Thai food as well, never tried Japanese, but Chinese is always my favorite."

"Well, hopefully the cook aboard _Enterprise _was aware of your preference, so you could enjoy Chinese food during your travels with the crew," she remarked, "but I cannot help wondering what Denobulan food is like. Not like Chinese, I presume."

"Denobulan food comes in many variations, Miss Thoth, as on Earth. How is the food in your country? Equally famous?"

"I think you will find our _husmanskost _boring," she smiled.

"I doubt that, Miss Thoth. Home cooking is one of my favorite food, in fact, I like to make Hoktak, a very famous Denobulan dish, myself."

During their exchange, he had a chance to observe her. Her turquoise dress flowed naturally from her shoulders to her feet, emphasizing her strong yet feminine build beautifully. Her muscular arms, slightly colored by the sun, betrayed that she liked to sport. She was at ease and she moved with confidence and grace. Her face showed that she listened with interest and her features were not perfect, yet her manner, her eyes, the blond hair that curled on her shoulders, the smile on her lips, all underlined her allure. Lieutenant Reed was a lucky man.

The lucky man coughed. "I think your dinner has arrived, Doctor Phlox. We still have to order ours," Reed pointed out, tactfully.

He turned around, saw that the waiter, who knew him very well from his many prior visits, had just put his meal on the table. He took the cue and went back to his place. He saw Rianna put her hand on Malcolm's, Reed moved his head closer to her blond one, his black hair contrasting with hers. His lips were moving, a couple of inches away from her mouth. She whispered back. They smiled at each other and continued their silent, intimate conversation, before their waiter arrived.

His eyes moved away from the couple to his food and while he ate, he regretted that he hadn't had taken this chance to ask Reed about Tucker. Malcolm didn't seem in the mood to be interrupted now. Looking from his food to the back of the security officer, now in conversation with Rianna, he realized that he missed being on_ Enterprise_. He missed the friendship between the crew members. He missed Tucker who, without T'Pol, preferred to maintain a professional distance instead of his familiar manner that had bound the crew together.

After this, he saw Reed twice, only in passing. He did see Rianna once in the Starfleet building and on that occasion she told him that she had applied to Starfleet. Malcolm's stories had raised her interest even more and Starfleet was the best way to serve Earth, as she put it. She remained the warm personality he had encountered at Madame Chang's. According to the information provided by Starfleet Medical, Doctor Gonzalez gave her a clean bill of health and when the other tests and formalities were done, the new list of crew members revealed that Rianna would serve aboard _Enterprise _aspart of the engineering department.

The **new** engineering crew of _Enterprise_. A year had almost passed and while he enjoyed his research projects, he hoped that soon _Enterprise_ would be launched again. Starfleet Command didn't seem in a hurry to bring the ship back into space. He wondered if when they did, the crew would include T'Pol.

Then he heard from Janine, Archer's secretary, that T'Pol had returned to Earth, but he didn't get a message from her.

Everything changed, when the Romulans attacked one of Earth's colonies. Starfleet Command moved fast and ordered the launch of _Enterprise _back into space.

So he found himself, the night before the launch, busy feeding his animals in his part of Starfleet Medical and thinking which animals he would take with him and which one to leave in the care of Ensign Miles, one of the assistants at Medical. He was talking to his new pet, a Kartalian hamster, when he heard the sound of a incoming message. He expected a call from Doctor Hinnes in regard to his research. He pushed the button to receive the message, but instead of Hinnes he saw a lost friend: T'Pol.

"Doctor, I am sorry to call you at this late hour, but I am aware that you rarely sleep and Commander Tucker and I require your medical expertise," T'Pol said. "We think it's important to investigate a certain matter. We can give you more information in person."

He couldn't care less if T'Pol had called him during his hibernation period or this night hour, the fact that she called him, Tucker was with her, and the urgency in her voice, made him put everything aside to help them. It was much easier and better to have things investigated before_ Enterprise_ was back in space, so he invited them to come right away. He would wait at Starfleet Headquarters, before the statue of Zefram Cochrane, and when they arrived, he guided them to the space in the medical facility that had been his own sickbay over the last year.

He studied T'Pol when she explained that they suspected that Commander Tucker had been infected with something that had affected his behavior and decisions, and that he had experienced a migraine that had almost left him unconscious. T'Pol had lost some weight, but not as much as he had expected from earlier experience. Her face showed signs of wear earned over the last year. She looked somewhat older and more expressive in a way, but other than that, combined with her new hairstyle, she looked well. So did Tucker.

They seemed to be at ease with each other. He found their request a bit vague and he had the feeling they were not telling the whole story, but he enjoyed helping. So he started checking Tucker's vital signs, his brain patterns and made scans of every part of his brain, as T'Pol asked him. After this, he checked every substance on the list T'Pol had given him, foreign substances that could block or stimulate telepathic avenues.

Tucker was very cooperative, but didn't say much. T'Pol was searching though Starfleet's medical database. He noticed that, from time to time, Tucker's eyes would wander off to T'Pol and his whole face softened, seeing her reading silently, behind Phlox's desk. It looked like Commander Tucker was still suffering from the one ailment that was universally untreatable, but he had a suspicion T'Pol was too.

Denobulans were taught never to be so focused on one person, like Humans or Vulcans. It spared them from jealousy, or to be more accurate, there was no room for those sort of feelings. When you shared your wife with two other men and had two other wives, you needed to give each other space and avoid possessive attachment. Still, family life was very complicated and most Denobulans preferred to live and work alone.

Tucker's vital signs were fine, but his brain patterns were off. He identified a very faint_ shehkuh_- wave, normally only to be found in Vulcans. Scan number 4 of his brain showed several unusual lesions. He made more scans and checked the list of substances. There was an accumulation of normal retroviruses in his brain, that were strangely carrying mechanical components found on the list. He magnified the viruses to the maximum setting and also had a closer look at the mass in the orbitofrontal cortex, near the lesion he had already discovered. It was an object. He looked at it, nonplussed, and thought it was time to share his discoveries with the commanders.

He started by showing them a series of neural cut-aways. "This is a scan of your prefrontal cortex," he said to Commander Tucker. "This," he pointed at branching black lines, "is scar tissue, the same lesions I have seen in the Expanse when crew members were attacked by a telepathic being. However, it is far more erratic."

"What does it mean, doctor?" Trip wanted to know.

"It looks like you have been attacked by and were fighting with a telepath and judging from the age of the scar, this took place a year ago. You put up quite a fight, Commander," he laid down his theory, based on his discoveries.

"Can't remember a thing about it. What about that white square shaped scar next to the front?" Tucker remarked, pointing to the scar that also mystified him.

"Yes, that one is puzzling to me. I would like to exam the orbitofrontal cortex more closely. I'm almost certain I have seen this kind of lesion before. I have to look in my files. I believe it comes from the same source as the scar tissue."

T'Pol knew the answer. "It's a scar left behind after a memory block. Someone has erased Commander Tucker's memory."

"_How did she obtain that knowledge?"_ he thought. "Are you sure, Commander T'Pol? Have you seen this before?" he asked her.

"Yes and so have you. When you were examining **my** brain."

He was astonished by her admission of certain events and he wondered why he seen the scar, but never had thought about a memory block. They agreed that the scars needed more research and he presented his second discovery. He showed them a picture of the viruses and told them about the fact that they weren't biological, but composed of mechanical components.

"I will extract some of these nano-viruses from Commander Tucker's body for you both to examine," he suggested. "Before that, I would like to have a closer look at his skin, lungs, nose and digestive system to establish the infection vector. But there is more."

He put up another scan. "This object, invisible as the viruses, is made of the same material, only connected into a larger form. It's situated in Commander Tucker's orbitofrontal cortex, near the lesion T'Pol identified. It looks damaged; something happened to it. I am not sure what. Maybe you could also investigate the scans I made of this object."

After he did some further tests on Tucker, he went on with his research as did the commanders. After a while, he wanted to show them his results. Walking toward them, he saw Commander Tucker and T'Pol standing close to each other. To his surprise, knowing Vulcan customs regarding touch, he saw Tucker gently massaging T'Pol's shoulders. Tucker moved forward, saying something close to her ear, T'Pol turned to him, searched his face and spoke back to him.

The commanders seemed to be back together. It only confirmed his theory about the two. Tucker had clear traces of Vulcan brainwaves in his brain and he already knew by his admission that they had been intimate. Combined with his knowledge of Vulcans and their mating bond, he came to the conclusion that the two had been bonded. Quite unique for a Vulcan and a Human. He couldn't help feeling excited about this new discovery. The evening had been full of them.

He almost hated to interrupt them, but there were bigger issues at stake. Tucker explained that the viruses really were micro-mechanical robots with gigabytes of computer memory. The materials from which these nanites were made could facilitate telepathic waves. T'Pol suggested that they were designed for telepathic use, which was probably also the purpose of the device. After a short discussion about brainwaves, T'Pol laid down her theory that, based on the materials, the mysterious device functioned as a telepathic transmitter.

"If this transmitter is only linked to one set of telepathic waves," she explained, "perhaps theta waves, as the frequency cycle is similar to one produced by Vulcan brains, and can't handle different waves... If someone were transmitting similar but slightly altered telepathic waves himself-"

"It would cause the transmitter to overload," Trip finished her sentence.

"The overload of telepathic energy is, in my opinion, the reason for the pain you complained about. The device is likely compatible only with a specific Human frequency, such as theta waves," T'Pol explained.

"Why my brain?" Tucker asked.

"Judging by the quantity of nanites in your body, you were exposed to a large group of them. I don't think this was meant for you alone, but for everyone working in a certain environment," Phlox answered.

T'Pol agreed. "If you can create a group of people which you can influence without them knowing, you have a force inside your enemy's army that is going to fight for you."

"Like little Trojan horses," Tucker said. "If we found the source, we would know more."

The most likely course of action was to look at all the assignments Tucker had this last year, starting with the last one, and look if other people where affected as well. If they were, Tuckers condition was no accident, but a deliberate attack on Human kind.

If there were hostile forces at work, they most likely were well organized and maybe even infiltrators were hidden in Starfleet itself. He hardly thought it was a coincidence that the only telepath in Starfleet was removed the same time as part of Commander Tucker's memory was erased and the plan apparently was put into place. If they were to inform Starfleet now, without more information or a cure for that matter, they could end up waking sleeping dogs that didn't need to inadvertently learn that their scheme had been discovered.

The last thing they needed was for Starfleet to jump on this case and draw the wrong conclusions, dragging everything in their wake. He had no interest in politics, but combined with his disapproval toward Starfleet's proceedings with T'Pol last year and his awareness of the tense situation in the Coalition, he could easily see things getting worse. They might accuse the Vulcans or T'Pol, because they were the only known telepathic species in the Alpha Quadrant, and that could very well play into the enemy's hand.

So he suggested the following, "I will check with the doctor at the facility you last worked for, Commander Tucker, and suggest that he examine the crew and, if necessary, put them in quarantine. Also, I will check everyone who came with you to Headquarters from that facility."

He looked at Tucker's tired face and added, "For the time being, Commander Tucker, it looks from your brainwaves patterns that the device in your brain isn't functioning, but the viruses are still there. On the other hand, they don't appear to be contagious. I will give you a monitor, so I will be notified of any major changes in your brainwaves. Go home, get some rest, get some food. You look exhausted and tomorrow is a long day. Please see me after the 9 o'clock meeting. The same goes for you, Commander T'Pol."

Tucker protested, "I understand the need to present our case carefully, with as much as information as possible, to avoid alerting the people behind this," he stressed, "but we still have to inform Command as soon as possible. Remember those Drones ships the Romulans made? They were operating via telepresence and telepathy was necessary to operate the device. Romulans have experience with telepathic technology. So what if we are in space, fighting the Romulans and they start transmitting telepathic waves to manipulate people? Some of the research facility workers are assigned to _Enterprise_. It would be reckless to go into unknown and dangerous territory when part of the crew could come under the enemy's influence."

"We hardly have evidence, only theories and some strange retroviruses in your body, Commander. We have a better chance presenting our case, if Doctor Green confirms that other people are also infected. Besides, there is another difficulty. It's not simple to explain how we discovered the nanites in your body without revealing," he paused, looking back and forth between Tucker and T'Pol and dropped his voice, "shall we say personal information." He saw their eyes light up in understanding that he was talking about their bond.

"As of now, the nanites are neither harmful nor contiguous, so there is no immediate danger." He continued, "I have taken precautions and will inform Captain Archer that I am investigating a case of rare retroviruses. After we receive confirmation from Doctor Green that the workers on the facility are also infected, we'll inform the people directly involved and key persons in Starfleet Command and Intelligence."

"And find a way to neutralize the nanites," Tucker agreed.

Now they had reached an agreement on their strategy, Tucker and T'Pol, took his advice to get some rest and headed home. He continued his work and contacted Doctor Green stationed at the research facility Tucker where had been working.

After breakfast he went back to sickbay and found – to his surprise – Tucker, looking refreshed and in a clean uniform waiting for him. He took the chance to check his monitor, while Tucker revealed the reason for coming.

He asked him if he had thought of examining Captain Archer. "He's been in close contact with the object researched at the facility, together with Lieutenant White of Research and Development, and chances are high that he's infected as well."

"I have tried to reach him and sent our information, but his secretary said he is extremely busy," Phlox answered. "I was able to make an appointment with the captain at 13.00 hours, a perfect opportunity to either tell him more about the situation or take a discreet scan. Hopefully we'll have more information by then."

Finishing the check-up, he concluded, "You are in excellent condition. No sign of any activity from the transmitter, but in the last hours the _shehkuh-_ waves, which are basically Vulcan waves, that I found in your brain, have intensified. You also have high levels of alpha and beta waves and lower levels of gamma waves, which suggest you've been doing anything except sleeping."

Tucker glided off the bed. He rolled his tongue against his cheek, before answering simply, with a glint of amusement in his eyes and humor in his voice that had been missing for a long time, "T'Pol and I had a lot of work to do."

Tucker went ahead to the conference room where the senior officers' meeting was held. Phlox tried again to make contact with Doctor Green again, to no avail, before he also went to the meeting. He was happy to see all of them, especially Hoshi, but he couldn't fail to notice that she and Lieutenant Reed took seats opposite of each other. T'Pol came later and Captain Archer introduced T'Pol as an addition to the crew. He had already been told about this development by T'Pol, but it still pleased him to see T'Pol take her place among the crew again. Archer told the senior officers about the Romulan attack and the order from Command for _Enterprise _to assist the ships already on the scene.

After the meeting, he went to T'Pol. "Before reinstating, most officers have a routine medical exam. Maybe you could join me now at the medical facilities at Headquarters for yours, if you have the time," he invited her, with the intent to hear and discuss Doctor Green's results together. Tucker didn't follow, but he expected him any minute.

He was eager to hear from Doctor Green, so as soon as they arrived, he contacted him again. It took some time, but finally he had a signal. "You were right, colleague, I checked with several crew members and they have been infected by this virus. It didn't look like it had much effect on the crew members I checked," Doctor Green told him, "but one hour ago, one of them became very ill. If I can't treat him properly, he's going to die. Since he's Vulcan, I'm unsure how to proceed. Maybe you could help me?"

"So, Doctor Green, this deathly ill crew mate on your facility is a Vulcan? I thought you had only Human crew members," he wanted to know.

Then he heard Commander Tuckers voice, "Oh no! Kov."

He turned around. "Do you know this man, Commander Tucker?"

"Why is he ill? You said that the viruses weren't contagious and you made it look like they were harmless, unless-"

He cut Tucker off, not wanting this kind of discussion in front of Green.

He turned to Doctor Green. "Did you already try contacting a Vulcan physician?"

Green nodded. "I did. I described the symptoms to Doctor Polek of the Vulcan Medical Institute in San Francisco. According to him, it looks like the patient, called Kov, has entered some kind of Vulcan healing sleep, but Polek had trouble understanding why the brain patterns were so erratic. Kov's vital signs are unstable. Then I thought of your request to check certain substances within the bodies of the facility workers, which led me to the viruses. I hadn't had time to check Kov, but when I did, I found plenty in his body. There is something very strange, though. They looked like normal retroviruses, but contained inorganic material, as if manufactured."

"That confirms my findings. What about my other question?" he wanted to know. "Could you find an accumulation of viruses near the orbitofrontal cortex of your patients?"

"Yes, that's what makes this matter even more urgent," Green answered. "All of the subjects had the same accumulations in the brain. Given the fragility of the brain, it certainly raised some red flags with me. Strangely, from the individuals I checked so far, none of them complained about medical problems, like headaches or nausea and I didn't find any side effects common with inflammation or chemical balances that viral infection often causes. Except now with the Vulcan. It almost looks like that they didn't effect Humans, maybe just Vulcans."

"Did Kov ever complain to you about not feeling well?"

Green smiled shortly. "No, but you know, if he ever did have medical problems, he would probably dealt with it by himself, before consulting me. Vulcans are notoriously private in my experience. For now, I'll try to keep him stable, but his brain patterns are reasons for great concern. So I would like you to have a look at my readings and scans and see if you can give some insight on how to treat Kov. If we don't find a solution soon, I fear for his life."

"I will look into it immediately. I will also ask _Enterprise_'s Vulcan science officer her opinion. You will hear from me shortly."

Green nodded. "I'll send the information right now. Hope to hear from you soon." He ended the transmission.

The scans and readings that Green sent showed that the transmitter was damaged, but to a far lesser extent than Tucker's.

"If your theory is correct, Commander," he said to T'Pol, "then Kov's condition is due to his abilities as a Vulcan telepath. If the transmitters are functioning on a frequency close to _shehkuh_ waves, then it may usurp a Vulcan brain completely as it did the Commander's acquired telepathic functions. While Commander Tucker's brain was generating similar waves, they weren't quite the same and therefore likely responsible for shorting out his transmitter. Kov doesn't have that advantage."

"It is highly speculative, Doctor. I have no information that Kov uses his telepathic abilities, but from the description it looks like he has entered a Vulcan healing trance," T'Pol answered. "He likely thinks that will help him, but his telepathic brainwaves are most likely the cause of his problem."

"I have no doubt that he is aware of telepathic techniques," Tucker brought up, "and we don't have time to develop theories. Who do we stop to prevent those harmful telepathic waves?" Tucker sounded agitated.

"Kov is a good friend of Commander Tucker," T'Pol explained to him.

"He is," Tucker affirmed. "He helped me a lot with..." He stopped. "T'Pol, how exactly did your monitor in Lethizeh block your telepathic avenues?"

T'Pol seemed to tense slightly, hearing the word Lethizeh, nevertheless, she answered his question. "It's a combination of radiation, caused by certain metals that serve as isolators. They are aimed specifically at the _shehkuh_- brainwave, which regulates telepathic abilities."

Tucker seemed to mull over this information. "So they knock out the telepathic brainwaves, but the other brainwaves can still function? If Kov is suffering because of his telepathic brainwaves, that radiation might be the way to stop the transmitter waves."

"It's a crude method and the patient will need close observation," Phlox answered, "but in my opinion you are right, we have to stop the harmful waves instantly and if the radiation can achieve that, I suggest we try it."

T'Pol contacted Ambassador Soval to obtain the necessary information, after which they looked for alternatives that might be available in a Human medical facility. He made a report in cooperation with Tucker and T'Pol to inform key persons of Command and Intelligence that they judged hadn't been exposed. He also discussed with Green his solution to expose Kov to a small amount of this radiation to see if had any effect. T'Pol took over, explaining technical Vulcan details to Green and his staff.

He went to Tucker, who was working behind his desk with several PADDs in front of him.

Commander Tucker said without preamble, "If this cure for Kov has positive results, it could support an idea I have to neutralize the nanites. I need your and T'Pol's expertise to develop it further," Tucker explained.

"Commander Tucker," he complimented through intonation, realizing how much he liked the man, "I have no doubt with your knowledge and creativity, we are going to find a solution."

To his surprise, Tucker's face darkened and his voice was strained when he said, "I want to help the people affected, not regretting later on that I didn't do anything, like when T'Pol was taken into custody."

"You did help T'Pol during the investigations," he answered reassuringly.

"I didn't protest or help her in any way after that final meeting. I know it was due to the attack, but still..."

He was startled. "I remember Lieutenant Reed telling me that you had an idea to counteract the events. You were going to confront someone in order to release T'Pol."

"When was this?"

"Right after the meeting with Lieutenant Arling, when it was revealed that T'Pol still fell under Vulcan jurisdiction. You didn't show up for your check-up for your injured shoulder, so I asked Lieutenant Reed where you were. You came to sickbay much later."

He saw the blood drain out of Tucker's face. His body tensed, his shoulders dropped an inch. It was like fatigue and sadness washed over him. He stared beyond him, without seeing. In the corner of his eye, Phlox saw T'Pol turn her head, casting an inquiring look on Tucker, before walking toward him.

"Doctor Green has received all the information and will give you an update about Kov's condition as soon as possible," she reported to him, but her eyes never left Tucker's face.

Before his eyes, Tucker returned to normalcy. He smiled warmly at T'Pol and said in a slightly hoarse voice "It's a long shot. I sure hope it works, though." Then he turned to him. "Doctor, can I have a look at my medical file? I think I have to investigate a medical check-up I made a year ago."


	14. Chapter 13 Phlox death of a spy

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 13**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **Members of Starfleet are infected by nanites from a contaminated Romulan ship. Kov, the only Vulcan, who is working on the facility that researched the ship, has become ill. Additionally, Trip was attacked by a telepath a year ago and part of his memory was wiped. When discussing events from a year ago, Trip remembers something.

**A****uthor's note: **A big "thank you" to my beta KKGlinka and thanks to KTR for providing an excellent idea in one of his reviews. Also, I would like to thank everyone who left a review for the previous chapters. I really appreciate them.

**- Present, Starfleet Headquarters, Phlox's sickbay -**

According to Human beliefs, if he had had been a cat this moment, he would ceased to live. Burning with curiosity, Phlox looked at Commander Tucker, going through his own medical file. Finally he seemed to find what he was looking for and asked Phlox to come closer to see the results of his search. Without a word, T'Pol joined him. She was greeted with a warm smile from Tucker, before he addressed Phlox.

"Doctor, I just read that after the meeting with Arling, you waited for me to show up for my exam, but I came by the next day instead." Tucker pointed to the screen in front of him. "In your notes, you write, '_Patient stares into space most of the time during the examination. Patient is agitated, noticeably inattentive and speaks rarely. Signs of severe migraine. He is clearly suffering from extreme emotional stress. Shoulder has healed nicely.'_."

Tucker tapped his finger on the screen. "All those symptoms, could they be related to the attack by the telepath and my memory wipe?"

"That is easily possible," Phlox answered. At that time he had thought that the symptoms were classic signs of the enormous stress Tucker had endured, being interrogated in his time of grief and the events surrounding T'Pol.

"So, if the attack took place after the meeting with Arling and before my visit to Sickbay... Malcolm told you that I went to visit someone after the meeting, but I don't remember anything. So, the attack may have taken place during that visit," Tucker put down as his theory.

"The attacker may be the person you visited," T'Pol rephrased, having understood. "It is possible that Lieutenant Reed can identify him."

"I think Malcolm is working in the _Enterprise_ armory this morning. I could ask him right away," Tucker suggested.

Before Phlox or T'Pol could answer, a beeping sound interrupted their conversation. It was Doctor Green. He looked pained. Wiping some sweat from his forehead with a cloth, he informed them that there was some improvement in Kov's condition, but the damaging waves weren't totally gone and Kov was still in danger.

Phlox looked at T'Pol and the science officer didn't disappoint him when she came up with a solution. "We used similar Human substances as the Vulcan device, but they were not identical. I thought we found the right combination, but we have been in error. I have an idea for two other substances, that might be more effective. More tests are needed."

T'Pol turned to him. "Doctor, could we slightly decrease the Hertexium and Fetolioum and use Tokalium instead of Daktarium? We could run some tests on my brain to see which combination is most effective."

Tucker interrupted her. "What are you doing? No way you are you going to be a guinea pig. Not with your medical history."

"As a Vulcan, I have the same metabolism and brainwaves," she explained shortly, while mild annoyance crept into her Vulcan features. He was the only one who got this response from her.

Tucker stared back at her, not wavering.

"I think there is no other option than to do some tests on Kov and try several combinations to find the right one, " Doctor Green interrupted their dispute. "Even when the risks are high because of the patient's condition, doing nothing is more dangerous for everyone else."

As time passed, Phlox concentrated solemnly on finding the cure. The outside world didn't exist anymore. It was their team and Green's team, fighting to find the right combination and using every source and knowledge available to them. The first new combination failed, also not effective enough. The second one as well.

Now they tried the third one. Doctor Green took longer than before and he hoped that was a good sign. It was. The moment Doctor Green's face appeared on the screen to report the results, relief written all over his face, he knew they had won this battle. Kov's vital signs had returned to normal and Green reported that his brainwave patterns looked good. At the end of his report, one of assistants called him and he disappeared from view.

When he returned, back on the screen, he smiled broadly. "More good news: The patient is awake. I wanted to test if his brain functions were back to normal, so I told him that we were helping him and that we asked Doctor Phlox, Commander T'Pol and Tucker to help him. He did respond, but he can only communicate in Vulcan, which is a natural side effect of disorientation. So it looks like he has stabilized."

"What did he say, Doctor?" T'Pol asked.

"I wrote it down." Green looked down at his PADD and murmured the Vulcan words in front of him with his strong Southern accent, "_Sasaya navum._"

"Sasaya navun," T'Pol recognized. "He is asking if some transmission was successful. I do not know what transmission he is talking about."

Tucker laughed. "Tell him I sent his message the first chance I got. I have no doubt that she'll be in contact with him soon."

Doctor Green smiled. "I will tell him. He can use good news." He went back toward Kov. When Green came back, he said. "When I told him about the message, he responded, before he drifted into a healthy sleep. I think it was a message for you, Commander Tucker, because I have heard your nickname is 'Trip'. 'Trip _skan-net bolau-tor_'. Does that sounds familiar, Commander T'Pol?"

Not a muscle twitched on T'Pol's serene face, but Phlox could hear doubt in her voice when she responded. "I think he is asking if Commander Tucker needs his nephew. I do not understand his question."

Tucker's reaction, on the other hand, was full of understanding. "Smart ass," he uttered. He shot an amused, heartfelt glance at T'Pol before telling Doctor Green - with eyes full of mirth - that there was nothing wrong with Kov. "He's his usual romantic self. If he wakes, tell him I'll be in touch with him."

An amused Doctor Green promised he would, deliberated briefly with Phlox about the treatment of the other persons effected by the nanites, and ended the transmission. There was no time to rest, because Ensign Micheal Rostov and the Lieutenants Giovanni Azzurri and Jessy Warner, former facility workers, had arrived for their check-ups. They were accompanied by a balding, blond, skinny man.

"Lieutenant Arling." Phlox recognized the man who had led the investigation on Terra Prime on behalf of Starfleet Intelligence.

"Lieutenant-Commander. I've been promoted. Your report piqued our interest, Doctor. I've heard that Command has ordered you to investigate the matter, treat the ones affected and neutralize the nanites. Starfleet Intelligence have asked me to help you," he explained, then added, "I came here earlier and you were busy with a patient. So the situation looks more serious then we expected. I thought those viruses weren't harmful to Humans, but you feared that because they were manufactured and made from material that could facilitate telepathic waves, they could be used to alter behavior by influencing Human brainwaves. Now someone has become ill. Why is that?"

"The nanites do seem to be designed only for Human brainwaves. This man was Vulcan and it looks like the effects on non-Humanoid species are more severe," Phlox answered. "I will show you our research. I just received word that a Starfleet science and medical research team will be assisting me. My main idea for a cure was to find the right combination of certain radioactive substances that would lead to the disintegration of the nanites in the bodies, including the accumulation in the brain. This had to be done in such a way that it wouldn't disable the Human immune system or have other harmful side-effects."

Arling became his observer, while Tucker and T'Pol assisted, during all his examinations of the facility workers, starting with Rostov. After finding nanites in his body, Phlox asked Rostov if he could try an experimental treatment and after Rostov agreed, he tried several doses of radiation. Rostov endured the treatment, without complaining once. The fourth combination seemed to neutralize the transmitter and he also saw some degradation of the nanites. More treatments were needed, but for the time being he had created a method to neutralize the nanites.

During the time Rostov needed to recover, he set the monitor to check his brainwaves. He treated Azzuri and Warner with the same final method he'd used on Rostov. He shared his results with Green, who had already started treating people at the facility.

Arling asked several questions about their research, but he also wanted to know about Commander Tucker's condition. "I read in Phlox's report that there is a possibility you were attacked by a telepath a year ago. It must have been emotionally traumatic. How are you coping with it?" Arling asked the commander.

Tucker seemed reluctant to talk about this matter, probably because of the sensitivity of the subject, and there seemed to be some tension between the men. "I have friends that help me," Tucker finally said.

"That's great, but I think you should seek professional help. This year has been quite an ordeal for you."

Tucker, surprised by Arling's friendly attitude, thanked him for his advice. Then, after some further hesitation, he shared with Arling his idea that a blond woman might be involved, but he added that his theory was based on a dream.

"Hardly scientific," Tucker mocked himself, but Arling felt differently.

"When it comes to nanites that work with theta waves, the waves that are associated with dreaming in Humans, dreams may be of vital importance, don't you agree, Doctor Phlox?"

Phlox couldn't agree more.

After his talk with Arling, Tucker left, explaining that he was needed in Engineering for the final check of the engines and to meet new team members. Phlox had no doubt he would take also the opportunity to pay Lieutenant Reed a visit.

After a while, Tucker contacted them, informing them he was almost done. "The test went very well. The people who installed the improvements did a great job. I still have a couple of things to do here in Engineering, because there is a delegation from Starfleet Command coming. It seems that Black, Tenson and Chueng wanted to see the improvements we made, before we launched. Kelby volunteered to give them a tour. Also I have some … eh... family business to take care of and I want to speak to Lieutenant Reed as soon as possible, so I'm probably going grab a sandwich and a coffee on the fly. This way, I can return to Sickbay sooner for a update on the research. Having studied their mechanics, I have an idea to neutralize them better."

T'Pol stared for a second at the empty screen, before turning around to Phlox and Arling. "I have never heard of an Admiral Tenson of Starfleet Command. Is he a newly promoted admiral that I am not aware?"

"Senator Tenson is not an Admiral; she was appointed by Earth's government to be their representative," Arling explained to her. Until now, he and T'Pol had hardly exchanged a word. "Last year she was also the liaison of Vulcan affairs, as you probably know, but Admiral Richardson has taken over that position."

Meanwhile, Phlox had a hard time hiding his amazement that hours before the launch and with looming nanite crisis at hand, members of Command would want a tour. Phlox wondered if they understood the gravity of the situation and, because he hadn't heard from the captain, he wasn't sure Archer did either. He also had the feeling Archer would simply forget his appointment with him, because of his busy schedule. Not on his watch. He knew that Archer always lunched in the officers' lounge, so he excused himself, saying he needed food to function. He ignored Arling's raised eyebrow and went to the lounge.

Before he entered the officers' lounge, he saw Lieutenant Thott leaving the cafeteria at Starfleet Headquarters.

"They have miso soup on the menu, Doctor Phlox," she informed him, "a good chance to have some Japanese food."

Although he had already familiarized himself with Japanese food after their conversation at Madame Chang's, he was enchanted by the fact that she remembered their little talk. "I will try some," he answered back, while Rianna continued walking in the direction the dry-dock, where the improved Enterprisewas to be found.

Archer was sitting alone at his table in the officers' lounge, but he gestured Phlox to join him. "Doctor, did Trip come to visit you?" he asked him.

"Yes, he did, Captain. Ah! Humans have such delicious food. Have you ever tried miso soup? It is quite tasty."

Archer seemed to be annoyed about Tucker. "I'm not into Japanese food. Why did he want to speak to you? Do you know where he is?"

He was surprised that Archer didn't bring up the report he sent him about the nanites or his upcoming examination. All he seemed to be interested in was the fact that Tucker hadn't been in contact with him. Whatever was going on between those two men, he'd found it was best to stay out of it. He remembered Tucker's remark about grabbing lunch – a very unhealthy habit – because of his busy schedule. "He said he had to go attend some family business, before the launch. His other work was already finished."

His reply didn't have the effect he wanted, because Archer became even more curious. "Family business? His parents are in San Francisco?"

He had to change the subject. "Most likely. There is one thing I still wanted to do. I wanted to thank you for the new additions in sick bay. Very well done."

"Yes, _Enterprise _is in better shape then ever," the captain said with pride, apparently distracted despite his earlier persistence.

They spoke for a few minutes about the new mission and the renovated _Enterprise.__ When they reached a break in the conversation, Phlox _asked, "Did you receive my report about the nanites that were found in the research facility workers?"

"Yes, I did." Archer moved in his chair and his back straightened. "I find it very hard to take seriously. So, Trip has some kind of virus in his body, but there are a lot of them out there. I think it's far fetched to link some bugs with – what was it? – telepathic transmitters and a telepathic attack on mankind. No offense, Doctor Phlox, you are a very capable doctor, but I think we should concentrate on the launch and our new assignment, not developing wild theories based on a harmless virus. Flu's come and go."

"I see," Phlox answered. Had his report been so unclear? he thought. He had emphasized that they had strong indications, but not real proof for their theory. Somehow, Archer had interpreted it as mindless speculations of his. "What about the scar tissue found in Commander Tucker's brain?" he pointed out.

"I hate to remind you, but you did brain surgery on the man. That would leave some scars. Look, I really appreciate your concern and all your hard work, but we have a job to do. Just focus on that," Archer responded. "In a few hours, we're going to be back in space."

With a couple of hasty bites, Archers finished his lunch, bid him a good day, placed his tray back and walked away.

Phlox hurried to consume the last part of his lunch and to catch up with the captain. He put his hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry, Captain, but you have an examination scheduled. This way please, my sickbay is over there."

Archer looked rather agitated, but Phlox guided him to Sickbay. Arling was still there, but T'Pol had left. He had asked her to run some tests at the Science Department in cooperation with the science team. Archer seemed to be blind to Arling's presence, didn't greet him, but started the minute he set foot in Sickbay into a whole monologue about how he had other things to do besides spending time in Sickbay.

"Please lay down on the biobed. The procedure doesn't take much time," he interrupted Archer with his standard reply for reluctant patients. Archer definitely fell in that category.

"Why do sickbays always smell so horrible?" he said, frowning. Archer sat on the bed, crossed his arms and legs with his back rigid. His eyes moved restlessly from right to left, before fixating on the monitor above his head. "Are you going to put that thing on my head?" he grumbled.

"Please lay down," Phlox repeated and very slowly Archer moved backward into a laying position. He took his scanning device but before he had a chance to proceed, Archer started waving his arms around like he was chasing flies away and knocked his hand against the device.

"The light's too bright! It's blinding my eyes!" he said sharply.

There was no light on the device.

"Shall I hold him?" Arling asked softly. He also had noticed the captain's peculiar attitude.

Phlox shook his head. Holding him down would only agitate the captain more. He spoke with a calm voice to Archer. "It's standard procedure - nothing to worry about – Captain." He saw Archer's eyes growing wider, his mouth grim.

Then he started yelling, "Don't touch me! Get your hands off me! You're not going to fry my brain!"

At that moment, Lieutenant Thott entered Sickbay. She was holding a PADD and her eyes searched the room quickly. She was moving closer toward the unusual scene at the biobed, when Archer suddenly stopped ranting, looked at Thott as if he had seen a ghost and jumped off the bed.

Both Phlox and Arling blinked in surprise, as Archer stormed onto Thott, wrapping his hands around her throat, pushing her to the floor. He was screaming, while pushing his hands into the flesh of her neck, "You vicious bitch! Leave me alone! You hateful -"

With one move, Thott reversed the situation. Archer was thrown on the floor as she placed her hand on his neck and pinched. Archer was out in a second.

At the door of Sickbay, Phlox suddenly saw two other persons, both nailed to the ground: Tucker and Reed.

"What is going on?" Tucker cried out. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?"

Phlox and Arling stood in shock over the course of events, but Rianna seemed to be un-phased by the fact that the captain of the _Enterprise_ had tried to strangle her. She stood up and arranged her cloths. "I am not harmed," she assured Tucker.

Tucker stepped toward her, Reed one step behind him. "It looked like the captain attacked you, but then you pinched him and he dropped to the floor. How did you manage that?"

"Old army trick," she explained in a steady voice.

"Don't mess with the Swiss," Tucker commented, astonishment written all over his face.

"Swedish," Reed corrected automatically, staring at Rianna in disbelief.

Tucker knelt down beside the captain. "What happened, Phlox? Is he hurt?"

Phlox checked on Archer. There was a strange bruise on his neck, but he breathed naturally. "He is unconscious, but his vital signs are good."

"I'm not medically trained, Doctor, but it looked to me like he snapped at the thought of being examined. Something is very wrong," Arling remarked. "If Lieutenant Thott hadn't act so quickly, she could have been seriously hurt. How is your neck, Lieutenant?"

"Never better, Lieutenant-Commander Arling," Rianna responded, not without mockery. While speaking, she looked beyond him, searching Reed's face. She smiled at him, but Malcolm nodded stiffly in response to her silent attempt at communication.

Arling suggested that they move Archer to another bed, to a quiet place, more out of sight to be examined. After he and Tucker had placed the still unconscious captain on his new bed, and Phlox checked Rianna to make sure she was indeed unharmed, Tucker asked her if she had been looking for him.

His guess had been right. Thott explained that she required his expertise on some technical problem in Engineering. When she left to go back to work, Lieutenant Reed followed her, the grim look still on his face. He hadn't said a word to Rianna since his arrival in Sickbay.

Meanwhile, the captain slept peacefully, his head supported by a pillow. Phlox covered the captain's torso and legs with a blanket and started the examination. There were no nanites to be found in his body, but several scans of his brain showed the same kind of microscopic transmitter as he had found in the others, only of a larger and more complex shape. He started the treatment, closely watched by Tucker and Arling.

Slowly the captain opened his eyes. "What are you doing, Phlox?" he whispered to him.

"There appears to be the same accumulation of nanites in your brain as I found in the others," he answered. "I will give you doses of radiation using several materials that are capable of neutralizing the nanites and the influence they have on your brainwaves."

Archer nodded slowly. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, before talking. "You were right, Phlox," he said. "I was wrong not to believe you." He smiled weakly. "In my defense, I haven't been myself lately."

Tucker asked how he was feeling.

"Worn out," Archer responded. He leaned slightly upward to ask, looking him in the face, "What about the girl with the blond hair? Is she okay? I remember that…." he stopped mid sentence. He continued in a low voice, layered with unbelief, "Did I try to kill her?"

"She is in good health, Captain," Phlox responded. "She didn't sustain any injury."

Archer moved back, his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. Then he rubbed his neck. "My neck hurts terribly. Can you have a look?"

He did. The bruise had become less distinct, so he told Archer that he expected that the pain would subside soon.

Arling came closer. "Is he in any condition to answer questions?"

"I am," Archer answered for Phlox.

"It appears to me that your attack on Lieutenant Thott was triggered by something. Do you have any idea what is was?"

"I don't know," Archer said. He swallowed and added, "I've been having nightmares lately. About me undergoing medical treatment against my will. By a blond women. Blue eyes. Just like Lieutenant Thott."

Arling exchanged a look with Phlox and Tucker, but didn't comment on Archer's confession. He only suggested that, in his opinion, considering the circumstances, the launch of _Enterprise_ should be aborted. He would advise Starfleet Command accordingly.

Archer's face showed his great disappointment when he said, "The ships in the Dosa system need our help. If the Romulans did attack our colony, we need to investigate it."

"The risk is too great, sir," Arling answered. "We put ourselves in a very dangerous situation if we go out there, with people still suffering from the effects of the nanites in their systems. Maybe we should recall the other ships too and start a silent, full fledged investigation of all personnel in Starfleet."

Arling asked some more questions, but when he saw Archer was getting tired Phlox ordered Arling to give the captain a rest and return later. Tucker left for Engineering. When he was checking the captain again, T'Pol came by to hand him the results of the tests from the science team.

"I heard that the nanites in your body had an unusual effect, Captain," T'Pol said to Archer.

Archer nodded shortly, said he was really thirsty and asked if he could get something to drink.

T'Pol got him a glass of water. "The straw should make it easier to drink," she said.

Archer leaned up, took the glass and remarked, "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you make a great nurse."

The unflappable face of _Enterprise_'s science officer became even more neutral, before she responded, "It doesn't seem that the nanites have affected your sense of humor."

Archer wanted to answer, but his attempt was cut short by a loud beep from the sickbay's communication station.

Phlox pushed the button and a man shouted through the speaker, "Phlox! Kelby here! We have a serious injured in Engineering. We're going to beam you over now!"

Before he could respond, Phlox felt his body disintegrate into a million pieces and becoming one in a flash. He focused on his surroundings. He had expected to see the transporter room of _Enterprise,_ but instead he found himself in one of the cramped corridors of Engineering. Smoke filled the air, almost suffocating him. The smell of fire and burned iron surrounded him. Screams were filling the air.

Out of the smoke, Kelby grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. There were relays scattered on the floor. Next to them was a body, completely frozen in rigor, in the familiar Starfleet blue. He knelt down. The first thing he noticed was a large burn mark on the side of her face, surrounded by blackened hair that used to be blond. Hands and arms were also burned. While he concentrated on her, another man knelt next to him.

Softly, that man started to caress the top of her head and Phlox could hear him whisper, "I am so sorry, love. So sorry. For not believing you." Noticing Phlox, he veered away, making room. "Can she hear me, Doctor?" Malcolm Reed asked, eyes wide and full of fright.

But he'd already realized that she couldn't hear him anymore. Her mouth was open, but her chest was not moving. And her eyes stared into oblivion.

Phlox closed them gently with a brush of his palm. Rianna Thott was no longer of the living.

The accident in Engineering, causing the untimely death of one of the engineering crew, was a blow to every member of the _Enterprise. _The launch order was canceled, as a result of the accident. The treatments of the persons infected by the nanites continued, while Starfleet Intelligence and Internal Affairs also investigated the accident in Engineering. Rumors were heard that Rianna had been repairing a technical problem and accidentally made contact with two relays which caused a burst of energy.

Phlox and Doctor Gonzales were asked to do the autopsy on Rianna Thott. Seeing her, laying on the biobed, made him weary. Rianna had so been full of life and joy. He removed her watch and a necklace with a triangle shaped pendant, that she wore underneath her uniform. He noticed that a small piece of white wire was sticking out of the pendant.

He called T'Pol and asked her to collect the necklace and deposit it in the science lab for further examination. The cold, darkened room with on the biobed the victim of a tragic accident, wrapped in sheets, underlined his own bleak feeling and maybe it was the reason he was struck by T'Pol's face. He had learned, through the years, that her body language spoke for herself: the way her eyes lit up or darkened; the little twitches in the corner of her mouth; the way her back became rigid. Her expression was as as closed it normally was, but a sense of beauty radiated from her face, almost an air of invulnerability, that no one would hurt her and in her brown eyes a warm light shined. For a moment, he was intrigued about the cause, before his mind went back to the situation at hand: the tragic death of Rianna. "How is Lieutenant Reed doing?" he asked her.

"He is in shock. Commander Tucker is with him now," she answered.

Her remark made him think of their conversation early that morning in Sickbay. "Did they have a chance to talk before? About the visit the Commander made a year ago?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Reed remembered that he went to see a highly placed person that could influence Vulcan authorities. We reported to Lieutenant-Commander Arling that maybe a Vulcan is involved," T'Pol informed him plainly.

That could be interrupted as a Vulcan conspiracy, something that would surely effect the only Vulcan in Starfleet. He had no doubt that T'Pol would be aware of this. He made a mental note that he needed to ask Commander Tucker about this matter and concentrated on the autopsy.

Cause of death was easy to determine: electroshock. The burst had generated a burn wound on the right side on her face. When he studied the wound he noticed small fractures along her cheek bones. When he used several scanners to inspect her face, he saw more scar tissue, not only on her cheek bones, but also around her eyes, above her eyebrows and some strange tissue on the side of her forehead in a half circular form.

Gonzalez thought they were the scars left behind by cosmetic surgery. "Clear signs that she had her cheeks filled and her eyebrows lifted. My wife has done the same surgery," he commented dryly.

Phlox was not so sure. He didn't think she was the plastic surgery type or in need for it and the scars looked oddly familiar. A strange thought crossed his mind. _Tokula _was a rare disease on Denobula that infected the ridges of a Denobulan. The only way to cure it was through ridge removal operations. This kind of operation left the same kind of scars as he had seen on Rianna.

Humans don't have ridges.

"I am going to do a DNA-test," he heard himself saying in contest of Gonzales. His fellow worker protested that he saw no need.

Forced by a compulsion he couldn't explain, he did the test. Eagerly, almost nervous, he awaited the results. They were confusing, until he realized there were two sets of DNA. He did another test, separating the two kinds of DNA. Two species. He had seen the dominant DNA before. In fact, he had studied it intensely. He looked at Rianna's chromosome integrity. No sign of the deterioration of the chromosomes, the hallmark of the plague. He still had an example of how her species' chromosome developed, using his cure. It looked exactly like Rianna's. They had used his method of healing, a method he deliberately never shared with them.

He admitted, he had doubted his scientific solutions and decisions from the past. Especially the events with Sim had made him re-evaluate his views. Phlox stared at his screen with the DNA-results and thought of the look Rianna gave him when they first met, the hatred he had seen and later dismissed.

Something snapped in his head. All doubts washed away. He felt stronger than before about his convictions. She had no right to judge him. He had made the right choice. Nature must take it course. Besides, he had helped them the best way he could, not by giving them the cure, but a medicine that eased their symptoms for a long time. It was not his fault.

He reported his findings in the most neutral he could muster in an investigational meeting with Lieutenant-Commander Arling as the representative of Starfleet Intelligence, Head of Security Lieutenant Reed and Commander and Chief Engineer Tucker. A gray haired man with piercing eyes joined them, who introduced himself only as Harris from a special Intelligence branch in Starfleet.

Phlox could see that everybody were still shocked about the sudden death of Lieutenant Thott, but appeared to be calm and collected. Or rather, Reed tried to look that way. He had big bags beneath his eyes that suggested he hadn't gotten any sleep and stared at the others with intense sadness in his eyes. He took his seat in silence.

"Cause of death was electroshock, when she came in contact with two loose relays," Phlox informed them. "She died instantly. When medical help arrived at the scene, there was nothing to be done."

"I don't get it," the chief engineer spoke from his heart. "How could she be so clumsy? She was a great engineer. It doesn't make sense that she would touch two loose relays."

"The question we should asked ourselves it not whether or not Lieutenant Thott made a terrible mistake, but why the loose relays weren't found before or during the pre-flight check. It looks like an oversight by the chief engineer," Harris responded.

Commander Tucker gave him a sour look, before refuting, "Before every launch, we do several tests to see if all systems are functioning normally. There was nothing wrong. About 40 minutes after the testing, Lieutenant Thott informed me her team had noticed a one percent temperature increase in coolant cell 4C. Things ran smooth as silk during the test, but I told her to wait until I returned to Engineering - I would be right back – so I could investigate the matter. Before I returned, the accident happened. I can't believe she would investigate without any back up."

"Apparently she did. Is it unusual to have system failures after a general test? It continues to look like an oversight on your part," Harris remarked.

"Look, I'm the chief engineer," Tucker pleaded with passion. "I know that engine by heart. I'm responsible for my crew and every crew member on the ship. It's my job to get the ship going, get us safely where we want to go and keep its engines running. Everything was functioning in peak condition."

"Before we continue this discussion, I think we should look into another matter," Phlox interrupted. "The autopsy revealed more about the background of Lieutenant Thott, that should be taken into account. There are strong indications that Lieutenant Thott has changed her appearance. When I examined her damaged hair, I noticed that the scaly cuticle of the hair was raised, suggesting that she bleached her hair. This is only a small change, compared with my other findings." He handed his audience severals PADDs. "Look at page one. It's a scan of Lieutenant Thott's face. The marks are signs of ridges that have been removed. She also wore a necklace with a pendant. Tests showed that the pendant served as a device to mask her own biosigns and pass biologically as Human.

Reed laughed short and bitter. "You must be joking. She was an alien. Don't tell me she's Romulan."

"No. We have no knowledge of Romulan DNA, but Lieutenant Thott was a hybrid. Part of her DNA is genetically close to Vulcan, to be precise 25%," Phlox said. "Also, the bruise I found on the captain's neck after Lieutenant Thott had defended herself, is consistent with with the marks of old Vulcan technique to render someone unconscious."

"A Vulcan-Human hybrid?" Tucker remarked, clearly intrigued.

"No, Commander, Rianna Thott was 25% Vulcan and 75% Valakian."

He saw Tucker and Reed blink in surprise.

"The Valakians!Are you sure?_ Enterprise_ met them five years ago. They hardly knew other species, let alone Vulcans. Weren't they looking for a plague cure? We gave them warp technology to find it!" Reed exclaimed. "How on Earth..."

"Two years ago the Valakians became allies with the Romulans. The Romulans offered them a cure. They took it. Paying your due to the Romulan empire is a small price to pay when you are facing extension," Harris declared. With sarcasm that Phlox felt was aimed at him, he added, "I have heard the species that shared their world, the Menk, make excellent, hardworking slaves."

Harris was confident when he stated his opinion. "So Thott is from a species that are allies with the Romulans, gets involved with the Head of Security on _Enterprise _and becomes a Starfleet officer. Both Captain Archer and Commander Tucker indicated a blond, blue eyed woman was their attacker. Given her Vulcan heritage, Thott had telepathic abilities. We were looking for a Romulan spy working within Starfleet and I think we found her. Just before the accident, she was exposed by Captain Archer. We have Commander Tucker's statement from just a couple minutes ago that her actions were not consistent with her normal behavior in Engineering. So she took her own life to prevent being caught. She has motive, means and opportunity. Case closed."

Reed started to look more ill with every word that came out of Harris' mouth. Stunned he said, "You think she..." The horror was clear in his voice when he continued his sentence, "violated Commander Tucker."

Tucker cast a worried look at Reed, but said nothing.

Arling on the other hand raised his voice. "As usual you are jumping to conclusions. Thott was 25% per cent Vulcan, which makes her abilities as a telepathic very weak. The scars in the commander's brain suggest the attack was done by the same kind of telepath that attacked Commander T'Pol, who is fully Vulcan, in the Expanse. The commander hardly survived that attack. We're dealing with a much more powerful telepath, with capacities above what Lieutenant Thott was capable of. A statement of a women with blond hair and blue eyes is not enough. There are a lot of blond women with blue eyes, shall we arrest them too? Also if she attacked Tucker a year ago, why didn't she change her blond hair color and appearance?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant-Commander, but you would agree that all of this looks very suspicious," Harris answered.

"I think we should investigate further," Arling suggested, "since we're also partly guilty."

"This is not the time to ponder past decisions made by Starfleet or to grow a conscience," Harris interrupted him. "We are on the verge of war."

"My conscience is the reason I'm in my line of work and especially in time of war, we need one. This war is about defending our Human values, not sacrificing them in the process. But that is not what I meant," was Arling's sharp response. "Lieutenant Thott made it very clear that she abhorred any kind of mental rape and the Romulan's methods. That's the reason we worked with her and sent her to infiltrate a group involved in these kind of practices."

Phlox looked at Arling, not understanding what he just said.

Tucker's mind worked faster then his. "We worked with her?" Tucker quoted Arling, "You mean..."

Arling's response left no doubt. "Exactly, Commander Tucker. Lieutenant Thott was working for Starfleet Intelligence."


	15. Chapter 14 Reed love and suspicion

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 14**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **Just before _Enterprise_ is launched again**, **Trip, T'Pol and Phlox discover that members of Starfleet have been infected by nanites, which form a telepathic transmitter, which could influence Human brainwaves and actions. Also, Trip's memory was erased a year ago, while fighting with a telepath. Starfleet is now investigating who is behind all this.

**Author's note: **As always my thanks goes to my beta KKGlinka. The name David Bates-Smith is from Bluetiger's story _The mission._ This chapter is from Malcolm Reed's point of view.

**- Promotion of Starfleet at Letech company, San Francisco, six months before **_**Enterprise's**_** launch - **

He never felt more miserable in his life. He was sitting in the front seat, before the stage, eyes of all the employees of Letech Engineering on him. He should better act like he was captivated by Kelby's speech. He put on a facade of interest and listened to Kelby, as he tried to persuade his public, all excellent engineers, to join Starfleet.

Truth be told, Kelby did an excellent job. The most reluctant listener would be impressed by his enthusiasm. Maybe his judgment had been clouded by Kelby's actions with the Orion women or the guy was just happy, single, free as a bird, without any Orion, alien or Human woman, which would make any man happy. Women: He hated them and loved them at the same time and he would never understand them.

_Stop it, Malcolm_, he thought to himself. He tried to concentrate on Kelby's speech again, but before he knew it, his mind was occupied again with his problems. Hoshi. Two weeks ago, as of today, she broke up with him. He still couldn't believe it. What went wrong? He had tried so bloody hard to make their relationship work. He liked her. Not that he had fallen for her as he often had in the past - completely and utterly - for women who had no interest in him. That kind of love had never worked for him. He had seen on the ship that friendships turned into healthy relationships. You only had to spend time together. Hoshi was nice, friendly, upbeat, attractive and their friendship seemed to be blooming. He was forced to admit there had been some tension, but he had been more than willing to work things out.

So he was taken aback, to say the least, when Hoshi accepted an assignment in Brazil, which left hardly any time for them as a couple, without consulting him. He was cross with her, the hidden irritations between them and his fear of failure surfaced and one word led to another. Hoshi's accusation that he was throwing a fit, blocking her chance of a lifetime and that he didn't really care about her, infuriated him.

Then, with one sentence, Hoshi dashed all his plans and hopes into dust. "I don't think this relationship is going to work, Malcolm. I tried. It's better we end it right now."

She tried; he failed. It stung. He had tried too hard.

He surfaced from his musing when applause marked the end of Kelby's speech. Question time was followed by lunch. While he was enjoying his meal, a blond woman approached his table. He recognized her as one of the engineers who had asked Kelby a couple of tough questions that had made Kelby scramble for answers.

The attractive engineer introduced herself as Rianna Thott from Sweden. He wasn't really in the mood for friendly chats with women. As British and uptight as he could muster, he laced his answers with distance and slight sarcasm. It only seemed to amuse her. He was happy when lunch was over and he headed back to Headquarters, thinking he probably would never see her again and ostensibly grateful for it.

A couple weeks later, he was in his favorite store in San Francisco. Malcolm had always liked to buy guns, especially old ones from the days of the British Empire. _Robinson and Robinson_ was a small store, hidden off a small street and specialized in antique weapons. He went there from time to time to buy a new piece for his already impressive collection or to wander around just browsing. As he was admiring a weapon he really wanted to buy, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Interested in old guns, Lieutenant Reed?" a female voice asked.

He turned around to see the blond Letech woman. "I am," he answered her question and started walking away, pretending he didn't remember her.

"It's me, Rianna Thott," she reminded him. "We met at Letech company, during the Starfleet pitch. I was curious what kind of shop this is. You're looking for something specific?"

"I'd probably bore you with my hobby," he said, but Rianna pointed to the WW-1 era Springfield 1903 rifle he had been admiring.

"Why is that one so interesting? I mean, all the guns here are more or less the same to me," she asked.

"I prefer to collect weapons that haven't become fragile with age, too dainty to be fired," he explained. "For instance, this early model production Springfield rifle can be fired, but due to early flaws in the casting process for the receivers – the heat treatment was inferior to later methods - rifles with serial numbers under about 300,000 are somewhat brittle. If you're going to fire them you need to be an experienced hand-loader so that you can manually load your ammunition."

He had thought that his boring list of details would drive her away in no time, but she nodded and asked him about a beautiful example of a Krag-Jorgensen rifle in another show case.

"The Americans used this weapon in the Spanish-American war. It was one of the first mass produced cartridge rifles. Everything you needed to shoot it was self contained in a 'round', but most firearms weren't like that. Most firearms before that time were percussion muzzleloaders, preceded by flintlocks. With those, the powder, lube, bullet and primer were all loaded separately, in sequence, which was as time-consuming as it sounds," he told her. "Not to mention, they required a swab between shots, cleaning between rounds and firing sessions, but that last part is true for all guns."

"So even modern guns are time-consuming," Rianna teased.

"Every experienced shooter will inspect and clean a new weapon thoroughly. In fact, in the military it's considered standard practice and part of training to inspect any weapon that anybody hands you, because it's not your weapon and you don't know what they did to it. You check and clear the chamber every time."

"So if someone gave you a gun, even as a present for, let's say your birthday, you would automatically clean it," was Rianna's conclusion.

"Yes, in fact, most times my hands already start cleaning the gun without me realizing it." He stepped back from the case, nodding his head at another rife absently. "It's partly to disable the gun, but it's unlikely you'd ever buy a weapon that has ammo already in it, often because its unavailable for antiques. Like this 1896, 8 by 56 millimeter, bolt-action Steyr-Mannlicher. It's impossible to find ammo. Nevertheless, as gifts most guns are presented in a box with ammo, if available, lined up under the weapon. The cartridges should be inspected, as well." He smiled ruefully, "I'm in the habit of inspecting everything."

He showed her some guns that were part of his collection, before showing her one of his favorites that wasn't. "This one, I really want to add to my collection. There aren't many left up for sale, so they're hard to come by. Webley service revolvers are among the most powerful top-break revolvers ever produced. Because of its cartridges, it's often called a .455 Webley. It was the standard issue sidearm for the armed forces of the United Kingdom, the British Empire and the Commonwealth from 1887 until 1963. My great-great grandfather owned one, but it's no longer in the family, though I've seen one beautiful example in a museum in Malaysia, where I grew up."

During the conversation he had found an attentive listener and his resentment against Rianna melted away. Before he knew it, they shared lunch again. She drank her tea in small sips and he teased her, saying that Swedes were famous coffee drinkers. "Four to five cups a day, I heard."

Rianna set down her cup. "Not me. I prefer tea."

"So what do you think about my hobby?" he asked her. "I mean, when you're not being tolerantly polite."

"I admire the craftsmanship by which those weapons are made and I can imagine you being fascinated by it. Nevertheless, they are still weapons and I like my hobby better," she said honestly.

"You read – a lot of engineering manuals," he guessed.

Rianna laughed. "Guilty as charged. How did you know?"

"A very good friend of mine is a top engineer," he answered.

"Well, in my defense I read lot of other stuff too, and I like to draw, paint, attend cardio-fitness two times a week and I fence. I'm also a member of a local chess club."

"I haven't fenced since boarding school, but I always liked it," he said. "And we had chess competitions on _Enterprise._"

"Did you win any games?" she baited him.

He felt pride when he answered with a smile, remembering the enjoyable chess games, "You're looking at the champion of _Enterprise_. Four years in a row."

From that point, the conversation ran from hobbies, jobs, college and things they loved and hated about their two countries. Rianna shared tales about her youth in a small town in Sweden where she was raised by her grandmother and father.

"My grandmother was a bit eccentric. She differed in appearance and attitude from the rest of the people in the small village I grew up in. It made me an outsider as well. Maybe that why I tend to like the outsiders and hate any kind of prejudice." Her smile that accompanied her story didn't reach her eyes.

His family was a sensitive subject for him. He only remarked that his parents were alive and well and he had a sister. Still, the awkward silences, that in the past plagued his conversations with women, including Hoshi, had turned into companionable lulls. When they said goodbye and Rianna said she had enjoyed lunch and the company, he watched her leave the establishment. A nice woman, intelligent, beautiful... _And an awfully nice bum_, he thought smiling. He felt very comfortable in her presence and she had left her address. Maybe he could send her a message.

He surprised himself by doing just that and soon he found himself spending a lot of his free time with Rianna. Their budding friendship grew in something much more. Being an engineer, Rianna had a strong interest in the technical side of his projects, but her questions and opinions ranged across a broad spectrum, from Starfleet politics into the more personal subjects. He knew he preferred to do his job and nothing else, feeling safe in his armory, but the way she challenged him to think, was refreshing.

One evening, when he picked her up for a meal at the famous restaurant Madame Chang's, he realized he was whistling. He hadn't whistled since he was a child. He felt happy and the luckiest man in the world. Entering the restaurant, he looked around. The interior decoration looked like any other Chinese-American restaurant he'd ever visited, with lots of red and gold painted dragons. Soft Chinese music filled the room and impeccably dressed waiters in black suits walked around. But Madame Chang was famous for her food and luckily for them, that included vegetarian cuisine, Rianna's preferred diet.

Rianna wore a stunning turquoise dress, her blond hair curled down around her shoulders. Her eyes were bright with enjoyment and her face conveyed interest in what he was telling – some story about one of his projects, while trying not to talk about classified information.

"The new torpedo upgrades for _Enterprise _are installed and it's a great improvement," he told her. "During the simulations, we hit an object on the planet with only one centimeter error. They're that precise and have more power. It's a pity we didn't have permission to test them in real space yet."

Rianna smiled. "Maybe you could ask if you could blow up a nice snowman on a deserted planet," she commented.

He laughed and started arguing with her that heads of security aren't only interested in blowing things up.

"Save your excuses, Mister Reed," she gave back. "Blowing things up is the reason you are in this job."

He admitted, joking that at least he knew some good engineers for rebuilding. "I'm not just a gunner," he insisted.

"It is strange that the chief tactical officer is also the Head of Security, but it does fit you," Rianna remarked. "Tactical is about strategy on a large scale, defending and fighting a visual enemy in the sky while armory pertains to ordnance. Security is all about observing the smaller things, watching people's daily routine and noticing the things that are off."

He was intrigued by her remark and was about to comment, when he heard a voice behind him.

"It seems to me, you also appreciate the delicacies of Madame Chang's. It's nice to see you again, Lieutenant. How are you?"

The voice sounded awfully familiar, but caught mid-thought, he couldn't put a name to it. He turned around and stared in the Denobulan face of Phlox, the _Enterprise's_ doctor_. _"Doctor Phlox! I heard you're working at the main Starfleet Medical Facility. Starfleet assigned me to some very interesting projects at several departments. Quite enjoyable I may add, so, to answer your question, I'm doing well," he replied.

He introduced Phlox to his companion. "Rianna, this is Doctor Phlox, the chief medical officer aboard _Enterprise_." Then he nodded at Phlox and said, "Doctor, this is Rianna Thott from Sweden, she's working at Letech company in San Francisco."

Malcolm discerned that, for a second, Rianna looked very uncomfortable in Phlox's presence and a look of strong dislike crossed her face. Odd. He never met a Human who was more accepting of aliens than Rianna. The warm smile with which she greeted Phlox the next moment, without any hesitation, was more like the woman he'd gotten to know the last few months. She and Phlox engaged in conversation about Asian and other kinds of foods. He saw in the corner of his eye a waiter, holding a plate, walking towards Phlox's table.

He coughed. "I think your dinner has arrived, Doctor Phlox. We still have to order ours," he pointed out.

Phlox took his cue. "Good to have see you again, Lieutenant. Rianna, it's been a pleasure meeting you."

"The pleasure is ours," Malcolm responded.

He took the menu card and studied it without reading any of the listed dishes. The visit had crimped his happy mood. His mind wandered off to the good times on _Enterprise, _and old friends. He would never say it to the man, but his friendship with Trip had meant a lot to him. With Trip came T'Pol. Malcolm had watched Trip and T'Pol develop a friendship, seen how it became something more along the lines of emotional intimacy and sensed how much she hurt Trip with her actions. Frankly, he couldn't quite follow their relationship. He even dared once to advise Trip to forget about T'Pol and move on. In some mysterious way, they came back together and Trip seemed happy.

Then came Terra Prime. He had seen the sadness in T'Pol's eyes after their daughter's death. He had felt shock and resentment hearing about her addiction, thinking about the risk that T'Pol had taken, not only for her but also for the crew. He wouldn't believe such a capable and trustworthy person would come addicted. His own experience with addiction - his father, a strong Royal Navy man on the outside, but at home an alcoholic - also played a part in his reaction. Nevertheless, T'Pol had been through so much and punished enough for her mistakes when she received a prison sentence. As for Trip, he missed this old friend.

Last year, Trip had a couple of assignments off planet, but he wasn't merely literally far away. When they spoke, they exchanged few words. They hung in the air and didn't seemed to reach Trip. It wasn't just that he had told Trip that he was disturbed by the news of T'Pol's addiction. There was something more. Trip was absent, like a zombie, without heart or emotions. When he thought about T'Pol's imprisonment and Trip's empty stare these past months, he just hoped both would find some happiness, with or without each other and that Trip would come to life again.

Rianna put her hand on his. "You okay, Malcolm? You look so sad."

He moved closer to her, as if he wanted to shelter within this source of happiness and warmth, to chase away his thoughts of the coldness that had become part of Trip's life. "I was just thinking of a good friend of mine. We served together on _Enterprise. _I consider him my best friend and he's been through a lot lately. He's kind of distanced himself from me and I want to help him, but I don't think I can."

"What happened?" Rianna asked.

"Just things, with relationships, with his family," he answered vaguely. After all Trip and T'Pol's daughter, and T'Pol's imprisonment were classified information.

"Losing your daughter and the woman you love at the same time is very difficult for anyone," Rianna retorted, as if stating a well-known fact. There was a challenge in her eyes.

He was not sure what to say. "What gave you that idea?"

"By simple reduction and deduction," Rianna said calmly. "Commander Tucker is your best friend. You told me so. The relationship between Commander Tucker and T'Pol has been a rumor in the news for a long time and Commander T'Pol publicly denounced the relationship. Not that I believe it. She has been absent from the news since Terra Prime showed us a Vulcan-Human baby, that the media and Starfleet want us to believe was a fake. Most people think she retreated to Vulcan but why would she? There is nothing on Vulcan for her. She took the Human's side too many times."

"You seem to know an awful lot about Vulcans," he remarked. "Why don't you believe she really denounced their relationship?" It always irked him, both as Head of Security and Trip's friend, that an innocuous remark meant to end a disturbing line of questioning, said during an internal investigation, would become public knowledge. Who leaked it and why?

"Vulcans are very private about their lives and we are expected to believe she publicly admitted she was intimate with a Human that she wasn't married to? Why would she? If you ask me, it's all a political game," Rianna concluded.

Her voice trembled a little when she continued, challenging him to answer, "I know you work with Starfleet with all your heart and you support their principles and aims, like exploration and building up good relations with other species. But really, Malcolm, I can help wondering, when push comes to shove, it looks like Starfleet is just a racist as Terra Prime. They didn't want a Vulcan-Human relationship, let alone a Vulcan-Human child. They probably pressured the poor couple to separate."

He understood that her reaction had everything to do with her background, but he felt compelled to refute her suggestion strongly. He pushed aside his own discomfort about how Starfleet had been grilling Trip and T'Pol about their relationship.

"That's not true, Rianna. Like you said, Starfleet's principles are based on exploring the stars, defending our planet and building up the Coalition. I don't think Starfleet Command is racist but a Vulcan-Human relationship would put a lot of pressure on the already fragile alliance we have with the Vulcans and vise versa. I can't vouch for any single member of Starfleet, but we are trying the best we can to build relationships with other species. Starfleet is the best alternative for Earth and any alliance we have. They are not the bad guys and you can't compare Starfleet with a racist terrorist organization as Terra Prime. I wouldn't work with Starfleet if that were the case."

Rianna apologized mildly, apparently withdrawing her challenge.

Vulcan weren't very popular, their teaching and customs hardly understood or studied, and the relationship between the two species at this moment was very strained. The last thing either side needed was a convenient focal point. It made him curious. "So why the interest in Vulcans?" he asked Rianna.

For a second he saw her hesitate. "I had a very good teacher at my university. He helped me during a difficult time. He was Vulcan."

As far a he knew, most Vulcans lived in the San Francisco area. Hardly any Vulcan was living in another part of the world, like Europe. The chances of Rianna meeting a Vulcan were remote. "Really, what was his name?"

In the months behind him, he had looked at her so many times, that he could tell – even when her face showed hardly anything – that there was more to her story than she let on. "His name was Karik."

Then she asked him more about his motivations to join Starfleet and their conversation moved in other direction.

After dinner, they went to her place. He liked her apartment. Rianna had painted the wall of her living room in soft yellow and together with orange curtains, pine wood furniture and wooden floor she had created a warm home.

"Shall we watch a movie?" he suggested, rather than leave immediately.

"You can check my communication and network device in the studio and download some movies," Rianna pointed out. She headed to the kitchen.

The studio was a light room, sparsely decorated, with a desk and comm unit, a bookcase, large candles, a painter's easel with some brushes and big brownish cushions piled up in a corner. Busy finding a good movie, his eyes fell on one of the books in her bookcase. Malcolm recognized the design: A Starfleet engineering manual. He didn't think Rianna was interested in joining Starfleet. He pulled the manual out of the bookcase and spotted a piece of paper tucked between the pages. He was expecting to find a Starfleet information form of some kind, but it was a pencil drawing. A drawing of a planet.

In the upper half of the drawing, in a dark blue sky, were three planets: One big orange one, a gray one with an ugly surface of rocky stones and craters and one greenish and blue planet, beautiful as Earth. In the center, three persons were standing on the surface of the rocky planet, surrounded by gray fog. It almost looked like the fog consumed them and the whole picture painted a gloomy and depressing sight, but the determined expressions of the three figures in front of the drawing gave it a sense of hope.

On the right stood a small gray-haired, hazel-eyed man, earnest looking and Vulcanish by appearance, in a green robe. Somehow Rianna failed to get his pointy ears right, because the right ear ended in scratches instead of a point. On the other side, a young women with short, brown hair, was dressed in military gray uniform. She had some ridges along her face. In the middle was an older women, with gray hair and pointed ears.

"Did you find anything, Malcolm?" Rianna's voice came from the living room.

He showed her the drawing. "Very impressive, if a bit depressing. A sketch for a painting?"

"Oh, that is embarrassing," she said quickly. "Just a sketch I am not going to use."

He pointed to the drawing. "Planets, aliens. Maybe there is more of an explorer in you than you think," he suggested. "You sure have the imagination."

"Sometimes reality is more then we can imagine," she said back, moving closer to him. Her blue eyes met his brown."I never expected to meet you at a boring Starfleet promotional gathering."

She kissed him. He felt her soft skin against his face, smelt her perfume, cherished the warmth of her body against his. A tingle started to arise at the back of his head. He kissed her back, almost aggressively, trying to force away a daunting feeling of horrible suspicion. He concentrated on her. That was important. He would not give in to this urge as a security officer to start questioning her. Her explanations were plausible.

But at night, when he went to bed in his own home, his sleep was torn apart by a nightmare where he saw Rianna standing on a gray planet strewn with rocks and craters, covered in thick clouds of gray fog. Rianna was upset and the Vulcan man from the drawing calmed her. Malcolm could see the mysterious man's face clearly: a deformed right ear, hazel eyes that glanced at him in a fashion that was oddly familiar.

"What is your name?" he heard his own voice demanding.

"I am Karik," the man responded, with Vulcan candor, before Malcolm woke up in a sweat.

In the months to come, Malcolm wondered if he was just a paranoid security officer who refused to believe happiness was there to stay. He couldn't put his finger on it, but doubt about Rianna crept into his consciousness, poisoning the sense of home and acceptance that he always felt with her. He became aware that her accent changed slightly when she was tired, that sometimes she said she was going to cardio-fitness or fencing, but when he checked, she was never at the gym. If he asked her, she would probably give some very plausible excuses, so ironically he did not. Then, out of left field, she applied to join Starfleet, something he'd never expected she would. Of course, he could flatter himself that he had convinced her to join and that she wanted to be with him, but his arguments seemed hollow to his own ears.

His true suspicion had begun with Rianna's reaction to T'Pol and Trip's fate following the investigation. In an impulse to ease his feeling of unrest, he requested access to all the investigation files. As the _Enterprise's_ Head of Security, it was granted and he started to read every document.

This change in his behavior did not go unnoticed. Sometimes he saw Rianna looking at him, earnestly, like she was trying to figure out what he was thinking. On the other hand, there was times when he could shake his doubt, forget about his silly thoughts and the evenings he was able to manage that, they became memories of his life that he would hold dear.

It had been already been a year since _Enterprise_ was confined to dry dock and the crew had scattered. Then the Romulans attacked one of Earth's colonies and Starfleet Command ordered the return of the crew and the launch of _Enterprise_. Malcolm was glad that soon he would have a chance to meet old friends, like Trip.

The night before the day of the launch, Malcolm worked late to get the final paperwork done. When he walked out the door from Headquarters, Lieutenant Bates-Smith also left. David Bates-Smith was one of the few other Brits in Starfleet and he had shared a couple of drinks with the man in Club 602. The officer greeted him and asked him about _Enterprise._ While talking, David remarked that he had seen Malcolm's girlfriend at Stinson beach two days ago.

Rianna had told him nothing about a visit there and, as far as he knew, she had spent the last couple of days at dry dock, Headquarters or her home. He went home and gripped Rianna's picture, which stood on his desk, with both hands and stared at her lovely face. There was only one way to break this circle of doubt, something he should have done a long time ago. He should ask her what she was hiding.

When morning came, he checked his messages and found a rather strange report from Phlox about a suspicious manufactured virus that had affected Commander Tucker. Additionally, Phlox mentioned that he had found tissue scars in Trip's brain. It didn't sound too good and he worried about his friend. How had they discovered this? Had Trip already returned to Earth? As far as he knew, Trip would arrive this morning, a couple hours before the bridge crew debriefing. How had they discovered the virus? By a routine medical check-up?

When he entered the room in which the debriefing would take place, Trip was already there.

"Good to see you, Mal," Trip said cheerfully, patting him happily on the shoulder, more happy then he had been in a very long time.

He took a good look at him. "You got me worried. I read some strange report about you having a virus, but you don't look ill at all," he responded.

It was the understatement of the year. Trip didn't look sick; he looked even better than the last time they spoke. Previously, Trip had appeared much older. He had looked at Malcolm with a lifeless, empty stare, his mouth grim and his shoulders slightly slumped as if overcome with fatigue. Today, Trip had bounced over to him in his normal energetic way and his face showed amusement and simple happiness. Maybe he had moved on and found a new love.

Whoever that new love was, it was certainly not Janine Grey, Archer's secretary. When the meeting started, Janine had taken the chair next to Trip. With amusement, he saw her making small talk with Trip, obviously impressed by his charms. Trip wasn't even aware of her presence and stared intensely toward the door, like he was expecting someone.

Every bridge officer, except Travis, was present and with a welcome from Archer the debriefing started. "It's good to see you again," the captain told them. "We all know about the circumstances of our departure and our mission. You will find information about the area of space we will be traveling to at your communication terminals. Before we go into details about the mission, there is a change in the bridge crew. The Vulcans have asked us to add a liaison to our crew and Starfleet has agreed."

"As long they don't put a mental hook in your head, Captain," Janine attempted to joke, "I've heard..."

"You shouldn't believe everything that's been told about us, child," a voice said. Ambassador Soval had entered the room, together with T'Pol.

"Malcolm, Trip, Hoshi, I think you all know Commander T'Pol," the captain took the lead again.

"Reporting for duty, sir," T'Pol told him. "Thank you for accompanying me, Ambassador."

He saw Janine and Hoshi staring at T'Pol as if Soval had pulled a Vulcan rabbit out of his hat. Despite the abrupt silence, T'Pol looked as poised and balanced as she always had been. Before the situation became awkward, Malcolm quickly offered a well meant welcome, "Good to see you again, Commander. Glad you could join us."

During the meeting, Malcolm observed that only he and Hoshi asked questions, while the others listened intently. He vividly remembering the last time he spoke with Hoshi - when she broke up with him - and he felt ill at ease to see her again. Janine made notes, casting attentive glances now and then on Trip, like she was expecting him to speak wonders. In a flash, he saw T'Pol stare at Janine and he just knew she disapproved of Janine's attitude. Then T'Pol's eyes met Tucker's in perfect understanding.

"_Good to see them on friendly terms,_" Malcolm thought.

After the meeting, he went to Trip, chatted at bit and offered an invitation. "Tonight, after the launch, my quarters on _Enterprise_. If we don't get attacked by the Romulans on the way to this Dosa system. Bring bourbon," It would be good to talk with him again.

"'If you have the glasses ready," Trip answered and moved towards the door. He was stopped in his tracks, because the captain wanted to speak with him.

Malcolm went to the armory and worked a couple hours, after which he went to his office.

There was a knock at the door and Trip walked in. He was carrying two small boxes. "You busy?"

"I thought a couple of hours before launch the Chief Engineer would be," he answered, making a gesture that Trip could take a seat. "I didn't expect you to come by."

"I just finished the tests in Engineering. The new adjustments worked perfectly. _Enterprise_ is ready to go," Trip said enthusiastically, laying down the boxes on the other chair before his desk, then sitting. "But I wanted to ask you about something different."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows speculatively, then asked, "What's in the boxes?"

"Nothing special. A game," Trip said quickly. He gave him an investigating look. "Do you remember the day a year ago before T'Pol was sent to be judged by the Vulcans, which lead to her prison sentence?"

"This game has something to do with it?" He was confused.

Trip pulled the game out of one of the boxes. "No. This is a present from Kov. He's a Vulcan engineer we met five years ago and he was working on the Starfleet research facility in the Kajina-system. The game is called Kal'toh. A Kal-toh set consists of a number of playing rods called t'an. If I recall correctly, the object of the game is _to find the seeds of order in the midst of profound chaos. _One of the ways to do this is by looking at the missing rods. Kov gave it to me as token of friendship. So back to my question-"

"The other box is a jewelry box. It looks Vulcan," he said in a hesitant tone.

Trip sighed. "You're curious as a Denobulan. Yes, it's a Vulcan jewelry box. T'Pol gave me the box containing a special necklace from her father to me a year ago and I wanted to give it back to her, so she can keep it in her quarters on the shipafter we launch."

"Pretty special that she would give you some of her family jewelry," Malcolm stated. "I can see you're still friends after this year of separation."

Trip simply nodded, his eyes sparkling.

It caused him to lower his voice before asking Trip, "Are you and T'Pol back together?"

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to do that?" Trip answered like he never ever would consider that scenario. Due to the glint in his eyes and his hardly suppressed grin, his deception failed.

"Yes, you are," he replied. "You may have told me that you never should have gotten involved with T'Pol, but that was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

"Just keep your mouth shut," Trip responded firmly.

"If you'll stop grinning like an idiot, then my lips are sealed," he answered. "You still have to satisfy my curiosity."

"There is nothing to know. You better get on with your own love life," Trip teased him.

He was happy for Trip, but he had to warn him. Malcolm knew too much about their past. T'Pol was a very attractive woman, but she never seemed ready to choose Trip above her Vulcan heritage. "You sure about this?" He looked at Trip, challenging him to be totally honest. "Your relationship hasn't exactly been a bed of roses."

Trip had his answer ready. "I'm not saying we don't have a complicated history, but that's the past. We struggle and will continue to do so, but this is what I want, Mal. To be with her, spend my life with her and I know she wants it too."

"What if she goes totally Vulcan again?" He hated to bring it up.

"T'Pol told me that our connection is her path and after a whole year of missing her like crazy, I know it's my path as well," Trip refuted, determination and sincerity in his voice. He spoke from his heart and Malcolm felt privileged that Trip would tell him.

A bit overwhelmed by the course of the conversation he nodded slowly. "I see. It sounds serious." Half joking he added, "You almost make it sound like there's going to be wedding bells in the near future."

Not a muscle moved in Trip's face, nor any attempt to chase away the idea of marriage with a facetious remark.

Bloody hell. It was serious. With some reservation Malcolm brought up, "I'm glad for you, but Starfleet isn't going to be. They're not going like it. Nor the Vulcans. Nor anyone for that matter. The situation in the Coalition is so tense, now with the war hanging over our heads and the Vulcans not helping, T'Pol just being released and installed, the new rules in Starfleet: You are looking at major complications."

"I know, Mal," Trip said quietly. With a trace of anger and irritation he continued, "You don't have to tell me: Archer was already lecturing me about my relationship with T'Pol but nobody says a word to him about his relationship with Erika Hernandez."

"Captain Hernandez is a Human with the same rank, so no political complications," he replied softly. Rianna was right after all.

"Exactly. We're the same rank and from different departments. There shouldn't be a problem," Trip pleaded passionately, with a bitter sense of reality. "Not for the Vulcans, who let couples serve together, not for Starfleet, with their great ideas about peacefully living together with other species. We both know how Command reacted with that situation with T'Pol; they covered their own asses first. I paid my price. I lost my baby sister, my daughter and almost T'Pol, because of political games. It's enough. I don't care what Command or the Vulcans or anyone says about me and T'Pol. If we don't tell them, they won't officially know."

Trip took a deep breath. "If we get married, that's our business. I don't want to hear for a second time in my life that I can't say goodbye to T'Pol or have any say-so, because I'm only a co-worker."

Surprised that Trip had been so outspoken and confused about his remark about being only a co-worker, Malcolm jostled through his brain for any person who would have said that. "I can't believe anyone would say that."

"Senator Tenson did. I still can hear her voice in my head. I wanted to say goodbye to T'Pol before she had to face the trial in on Vulcan. She said that I was only a co-worker for T'Pol, so I had no right."

"Tenson is a piece of work. The running joke at Headquarters is that she is only nice to her dog. She can hardly conceal her dislike for Vulcans, but they made her liaison a year back, because she is such good friends with the President of Earth. The irony of politics," Malcolm mocked. "You can say a lot about Admiral Richardson, who took over her job, but at least he isn't so full of prejudice. Did you know Tenson was the one who suggested that Starfleet Command extradite T'Pol to the Vulcan Embassy? She claimed that whenever T'Pol's addiction became public, it would show that Starfleet did its best to offer a fair trial for every person in Starfleet, no matter what species, and that everyone is judged by the regulations of their home planet."

"No wonder they nicknamed her the 'iron lady'. Tenson was perfectly aware of the consequences for T'Pol. You better not mess with her."

Trip rubbed his forehead, like he was developing a headache. "Enough about the past. I actually came here to ask you something related to the attack on me. You read Phlox's report about the viruses and the scars that he found in my brain?"

Trip continued to explain in more detail that the viruses were nanites that could form a telepathic transmitter, which could affect Human brainwaves and that the scars were clear evidence that he was attacked by a telepath a year ago. "Phlox's medical records showed that when I finally arrived in sickbay, I was very absent, suffering from what he thought was an emotional breakdown. In fact, my symptoms could be explained by the attack. So we're assuming it took place between the investigation meeting with Arling the day before and my visit to sickbay the next day. You told Phlox I was going to meet someone after the meeting and this person might be connected to the attack."

"You want to know if I remember who you went to," he concluded, his head busy processing all the information Trip had given him. "I'm sorry. All I know is that you said that you wanted to visit a highly placed person that could influence the Vulcans to get T'Pol out of this mess. Those were your exact words."

Disappointed, Trip said, "If you remember anything, let me know as soon as possible."

Of course he would. It crossed his mind that Phlox described Trip as being in a terrible emotional state, but Trip had somehow been able to have a rational conversation with Tenson. Odd. T'Pol had left the day after the investigation meeting, so there was little time between the meeting, the attack and the conversation with Tenson.

"I have an idea," he told Trip, "but I need to ask Phlox something first."

Trip could barely hide his curiosity, but Malcolm thought sharing his idea would be premature. After all, the idea that Senator Tenson, a personal friend to the President of Earth, a former liaison of Vulcan affairs, and a delegate of Earth government in Starfleet Command was somehow involved with a telepathic attack on Trip, was idiotic. But it made frightening sense.

So he walked together with Trip to Phlox's sickbay and when they entered, both of them froze at the threshold. Before their eyes a scene from a movie took place. He could not believe his eyes. It was surreal. Captain Archer, fuming with rage, was strangling a woman, screaming that she hated him. He instantly recognized the women Archer was attacking: Rianna.


	16. Chapter 15 Happy birthday, Malcolm

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 15**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **Trip, T'Pol and Phlox have discovered that members of Starfleet have been infected by nanites, that form a telepathic transmitter, which could influence Human brain waves and actions. Also, Trip's memory was erased a year ago, while fighting with a telepath. Meanwhile, Malcolm Reed is suspicious about his girlfriend Rianna's behavior. When Malcolm and Trip visit sickbay, they find Archer in a fit of rage, trying to strangle Rianna.

**Author's note: **This chapter is from Malcolm Reed's point of view. Many thanks to my beta KKGlinka and KTR for his Swedish translation.

**- Starfleet Headquarters, Phlox's sickbay -**

Archer's eyes were wide, his body rigid with madness, his hands on Rianna's neck, attempting to kill her and screams of hatred flowed out of his mouth. It was a frightening scene, like somebody had taken over the captain. Malcolm and Trip, just entering sickbay, were staring at the fight in total shock. But then, in one second, Rianna took control over the situation. She pinched Archer in the neck and, like a ton of bricks, he fell on the floor, unconscious.

Trip was the first to regain his senses. "What's going on?" he yelled. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?"

Rianna, unfazed, assured Trip she was fine.

Tucker stepped toward her, Malcolm following one step behind him. "It looked like the captain attacked you, but then you pinched him and he dropped to the floor. How did you manage that?"

"Old army trick," she clarified.

Malcolm knew it was a lie.

There was no Swedish army trick that would allow a woman of her strength to knock out an adult male Archer's size with a simple pinch. All his suspicions were raised and he was frozen again, but in anger. He ignored her, until she departed for Engineering. Then he followed her, rage building up.

Only a few steps outside sickbay, he grabbed her arm and said in a low voice, "You lied."

She stared at him with those innocent looking blue eyes and it fueled his anger further.

"There is no 'Swedish army trick' that can take out a grown man with one pinch. You lied and you've been lying to me for a long time. You said you were going to the gym, but the manager says you never pay them a visit anymore. You said, this week, that you were going to Headquarters and your home, but you made a visit to Stinson beach. You-"

She cut him off. "Thank you for your concern, Lieutenant Reed," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I am alright, after your captain tried to strangle me. Thank you for asking instead of babbling about what you found wrong with me. Maybe you can give me a tracking device, so you don't have to spend your time checking on me."

"I want an explanation."

"For what?" She was deadly calm.

Hotheaded, he answered, "Why are you with me? You wanted to get close to the Head of Security?"

"I wanted to get close to you." In a gentle voice she added, "Because I love you." Her hand reached out to him and she touched his cheek in an all too familiar loving gesture.

He knocked her hand away from him. "I don't believe you!" he shouted.

Rianna gave him the coolest stare he'd ever witnessed from her. "Then don't. I can tell you no more." She turned and walked away.

He felt like he lost on every level and all his frustration over the past months exploded into one punch against the wall. Biting away the pain, he saw a woman in her fifties enter the lady's bathroom close by without saying a word. It was Senator Tenson. He was a fool and his idea about Tenson was ridiculous. So instead of looking into Trip's medical files, asking Phlox questions or getting treatment in sickbay for the bruises on his fist, he went to the safest place he could find: The _Enterprise_ armory.

It was in that place Trip found him. "You okay?"

He nodded, but Trip wasn't convinced. "You left sickbay without saying a word. I always go to my office in Engineering when I want to sort things out. I thought the attack on Lieutenant Thott would effect you, she being your girlfriend and all. I might not have been there for you the past year, but I did pay attention and I know you've been dating her for a couple months now."

_Five __months, two weeks and two days_, he thought. He was going to fob off Trip with an excuse that he was fine and needed in the armory, when a hasty knock on the door cut their conversation short.

One of Trip's engineers had come to warn him. "Sir, there has been an explosion in section 334.2."

Trip turned to him and said, "Rianna Thott was working in that section."

Malcolm felt a rush of panic washing over him. One thought pierced through his mind: _Rianna was in great danger_. Forced by a overwhelming sense of urgency that Rianna needed help, he rushed out of his office and ran. He ran like he never had before. He knew where to go, because part of his job as Head of Security was to know every section of the ship, even the obscure ones. His heart was pounding when he arrived at the designated section.

Smoke and screams met him. He saw her body laying on the floor, her blond hair in a circle around her head. There was a great wound alongside it and some of her hair was burned. He knelt and started caressing the top of her head, where it was intact.

Miserably, he remembered the last words they spoke to each other and whispered, "I am so sorry, love. So sorry. For not believing you." It was only then when he realized Doctor Phlox was also there and he made room so the doctor could help. "Can she hear me, Doctor?" he asked. Rianna lay so still.

The only response Phlox gave was a look of pity and, with an unmistakable gesture, he closed Rianna's eyes. It was in that moment Malcolm Reed realized that the women he had loved for the past months no longer lived.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. He sat in Trip's office, staring in his tea, with a concerned looking Trip and he couldn't remember how he got there.

"You don't have to babysit me," he told Trip. "We're needed on the ship. It's almost launch-time, isn't it?"

"The launch is canceled," Trip said. "I have a medical check-up first, but after that, you can stay at my place, if you want."

Malcolm chewed on that piece of information, aware that he only wanted to sleep. For hours and hours. Normally he rented out his Starfleet apartment when he went back to the ship, but this time he hadn't found a new renter. "No need. I'm going home to get some sleep."

As he walked away, he stopped at the door and turned to his best friend. "I said I didn't trust her. Those were my last words to her, Trip. I can never tell her that I love her. So what I said earlier? Forget it. Take every opportunity for happiness and love. Take that chance. You never know when you or she will die. Nothing will remain, perhaps only love."

All alone in his apartment, he could neither sleep nor rest. The silence surrounding him became unbearable and he left. He got up and went straight to Trip's apartment, hoping his friend was there.

He was. When Trip opened the door, Malcolm muttered some excuses, but Trip gave him a warm welcome. He asked if he wanted something to drink and left for the kitchen. Malcolm entered the living room. The room was warm and dimly lit. Candles were lit and cushions were placed on the floor. He was greeted by T'Pol, dressed in casual cloths, in which she looked like the girl next door instead of the Vulcan science officer. In spite of his own misery, he was struck by the silent joy in her eyes. Not that he was very good at reading Vulcans, but this one looked almost happy.

"I grieve with thee, Lieutenant," T'Pol offered with her sympathy.

"I could grieve if I didn't feel so guilty," he groused. He hurt the person he loved the most. "Do Vulcans experience regret?"

"Looking back on your past actions, seeing the mistakes you made and the hurt it caused, and drawing lessons from it, is a logical course of action," T'Pol answered, in her way comforting him.

T'Pol placed the cushions in a stack, blew out the candles and adjusted the light to normal. On the table, he saw the same jewelry box that Trip had shown him that morning. He was clearly interrupting the couple on a romantic evening.

"You learned from my lesson," he concluded.

T'Pol's eyebrow went up.

Luckily, he wasn't forced to explain himself. He was saved by Trip who entered the living room with tea. He informed T'Pol she got an incoming message on the communication device. T'Pol excused herself. When she came back, dressed in her normal Starfleet clothes, she informed them that Doctor Phlox had asked her assistance on some matter. Trip guided her to the door. Malcolm took his tea and waited in the living room. He heard Trip and T'Pol talking in the hall, taking their time before Trip returned.

The first thing he said was, "If you want, you can use the guest room. It might be nice to avoid being alone."

He had thought the same and it was the reason why he had came. Still, he felt he needed to object. "Don't you think three is a crowd?" He didn't want to saddle the happy couple with the company of a gloomy man like him.

"T'Pol suggested it. She's here, because my apartment is closer by than her place at Stinson beach," Trip answered.

"She lives near Stinson beach?"

"Yes, she bought a beach house two years ago, shortly after we visited it. Guess the beach made a real impression," Trip explained. He snorted. "Never gonna forget that day. Not after the pictures Terra Prime took there."

Trip's remark about Stinson beach brought back not only that horrible, last argument with Rianna, but many questions as well. Why did Rianna go to Stinson beach, the place where T'Pol lived and where Terra Prime had taken the pictures that had set off all the events of the past year? His thoughts kept on turning and turning, until he went to bed early. In his bed in the guest room he heard T'Pol coming back, the soft talk between his friends, T'Pol making her bed on the couch in the living room. He imagined Trip kissing her goodnight.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to make order out of the chaos of the past events one moment, struggling with his guilt the other. He finally dozed off to sleep, to be awakened by some soft noises in the middle of the night. From the muffled sounds he reasoned out that T'Pol apparently had a bad dream and Trip reassured her. It was three o'clock and he'd hardly slept. Nothing was distracting him from his returning memories. The meeting at Robinson and Robinson. The dinner at Madame Chang. What had Rianna said? _Watch the small things. Pay attention to the things that are off._ Too restless to fall asleep again, he got a PADD and started to write a list of all the odd things from the last year.

He was finished writing when he saw the sunlight entering his room. A new day had come. In a few hours he had to attend - in his position as Head of Security on _Enterprise_ - the investigation meeting concerning Rianna's death. Luckily, Trip, as Chief Engineer joined him. Also present were Arling as the representative of Starfleet Intelligence and Doctor Phlox. To his astonishment, Harris, his old and much disliked chief in Section 31, also walked into the meeting room.

Phlox started with his autopsy report which, truth to be told, Malcolm didn't want to hear. It brought back memories of how Rianna had laid there on the floor, burn wounds covering her head and hands. Trip and Harris got into an argument how the accident could have happened, when Phlox cut them off.

He handed them PADDs with his findings. "Look at page one. It's a scan of Lieutenant Thott's face. The marks are signs of ridges that have been removed. She also wore a necklace with a pendant. Tests showed that the pendant served as a device to mask her own biosigns and pass biologically as Human."

He finally heard the truth. A bitter laugh came from lips. "You must be joking. She was an alien. Don't tell me she's Romulan."

"No. We have no knowledge of Romulan DNA, but Lieutenant Thott was a hybrid. Part of her DNA is genetically close to Vulcan, to be precise 25%," Phlox replied. "Also, the bruise I found on the captain's neck after Lieutenant Thott had defended herself, is consistent with with the marks of old Vulcan technique to render someone unconscious."

"A Vulcan-Human hybrid?" Trip asked.

"No, Commander, Rianna Thott was 25% Vulcan and 75% Valakian."

He had expected everything, but not this. "The Valakians!Are you sure?_ Enterprise_ met them five years ago. They hardly knew other species, let alone Vulcans. Weren't they looking for a plague cure? We gave them warp technology to find it!" Malcolm shouted. "How on Earth..."

The dry voice of Harris explained how. "Two years ago the Valakians became allies with the Romulans. The Romulans offered them a cure. They took it. Paying your due to the Romulan empire is a small price to pay when you are facing extension. I have heard the species that shared their world, the Menk, make excellent, hardworking slaves. So Thott is from a species that are allies with the Romulans, gets involved with the Head of Security on _Enterprise _and becomes a Starfleet officer. Both Captain Archer and Commander Tucker indicated a blond, blue eyed woman was their attacker. Given her Vulcan heritage, Thott had telepathic abilities. We were looking for a Romulan spy working within Starfleet and I think we found her."

He didn't hear the rest of Harris' statement. He was sick, horrified, tasting bile in his mouth. The fact that his girlfriend could have been a Romulan spy that could have harmed Trip in such a terrible way. He heard himself speak, "You think she... violated Commander Tucker."

The calm voice of Arling brought redemption, refuting Harris. "As usual you are jumping to conclusions. Thott was 25% per cent Vulcan, which makes her abilities as a telepathic very weak. The scars in the commander's brain suggest the attack was done by the same kind of telepath that attacked Commander T'Pol, who is fully Vulcan, in the Expanse. The commander hardly survived that attack. We're dealing with a much more powerful telepath, with capacities above what Lieutenant Thott was capable of. A statement of a women with blond hair and blue eyes is not enough. There are a lot of blond women with blue eyes, shall we arrest them too? Also if she attacked Tucker a year ago, why didn't she change her blond hair color and appearance?"

Harris argued back, saying it looked very suspicious, but Arling had more aces up his sleeve. "Lieutenant Thott made it very clear that she abhorred any kind of mental rape and the Romulan's methods. That's the reason we worked with her and sent her to infiltrate a group involved in these kind of practices."

"We worked with her?" Tucker quoted Arling, "You mean..."

"Exactly, Commander Tucker. Lieutenant Thott was working for Starfleet Intelligence," Arling said.

The room became dead silent. Four pairs of eyes looked at Arling.

Harris was the first to speak, almost outraged. "You gave an enemy of Earth entry into Starfleet? No wonder your department isn't working!"

"She is not the enemy. Lieutenant Thott's real name was R'ann. Her mother died in childbirth. Her grandmother had Vulcan genes and raised her according to the teachings of Surak. Her grandmother had changed her appearance and outward behavior so, nobody knew she was, in fact, a Vulcan," Arling explained. "Rianna was an officer in the Vakalian army. When the Romulans took over her home planet, every officer had to be medically tested. The test showed that she was Vulcan and a surreptitious investigation revealed - living by the teaching of Surak - and this was enough for the Romulans to put her and her grandmother into a labor camp.

"Her grandmother died soon after they arrived in the camp. Rianna managed to escape, thanks to a group of Vulcans she met there. They told her not to return to Vulcan because they had reasons to believe the Romulans had infiltrated the Vulcan government. Our sources have confirmed this. They advised her to go to Earth, the safest place for her. Rianna objected, saying the people of Earth had denied them the cure for the plague, but after her escape, when an opportunity arrived, she took her chance and traveled to Earth."

"She went to live in Sweden," Trip suggested.

"Exactly. She lived in Sweden for several months, before she moved to San Francisco. When we met, she said she had prove a Romulan cell was operating in San Francisco. She claimed she had means to infiltrate this group."

Harris started to object, saying that the DNA tests showed that Rianna was genetically close to Vulcan, but she wasn't entirely Vulcan. So her whole story about being prosecuted for being Vulcan didn't hold up. A debate rose between the men, until Arling took the lead again.

"We checked the Vulcan database and there are mentions of species closely related to Vulcans. Rianna told us that the Romulans did not only hate her being Vulcan, but also that she and her grandmother were followers of Surak. Ensign Sato's team has discovered a number of negative notations about the Vulcan way of life in the data banks of the ship we found in the Kajani System. The word for Vulcan in Romulan means "dead one". All this confirms the hatred Rianna suggested. Furthermore, we checked all the facts as best as we could and her story proved to true. Finally, we also had reasons to believe a Romulan spy was operating within Starfleet. We think he or she is responsible for the pictures and the medical file we found so easily at the time of our investigation of Terra Prime. That person probably also had a hand in erasing Commander T'Pol's letter of resignation from Starfleet and Vulcan files. She _did_ resign from the Vulcan High Command. Commander T'Pol is very precise; she wrote that letter."

"T'Pol told me that she couldn't find it nowhere," Trip informed Arling.

"Nor could I," Arling confirmed. "I am sure that I have seen her letter of resignation, but it had disappeared. The Vulcans almost looked as panicked in their own way when we asked them about Commander T'Pol's letter. They couldn't find it either. Combined with the rumors that the Romulans had infiltrated the former Vulcan government, it became clear Romulan spies were at work. Only a high placed person in Starfleet and the High Command would be have access to the files. Letting Rianna work for us had lots of advantages. This was a great opportunity for Intelligence to gain more knowledge about the Romulans and to find this spy. Her information was invaluable."

"Did she know who attacked me?" Trip asked.

"No, but she told me she had found new evidence that would lead to the person you attacked you," Arling answered.

Harris hissed in disapproval, Trip muttered that everything was very confusing, but Malcolm became calm.

"It is not a question of who attacked Commander Tucker, but **why**," he said. "I have an idea. I would like Captain Archer, if he is fit enough, and Commander T'Pol to join us. Commander Tucker, could you get them and bring that Vuclan game of yours?"

Tucker stared at him, puzzled, but after Phlox said the captain appeared to be in good condition, he went for T'Pol and the captain. When Trip came back with T'Pol and the captain, Trip had already filled them in.

Malcolm placed the game of Kal'toh on the table. He took his PADD with his prior night's notes.

He looked to the men and one women sitting around the table: T'Pol, Captain Archer, Trip, Phlox, Arling and Harris. "If I understand correctly, Kal'toh is a Vulcan game composed of rods. If you find order in the chaos of the rods, you finish the game. You could say all of us hold a rod. If we join the rods, the pieces of puzzle will fall into place."

He saw this audience listen with interest. "First rod. Two years ago Commander Tucker and T'Pol visit Stinson beach. Someone took pictures that ended up with Terra Prime and in the hands of Starfleet Intelligence. They also found Commander T'Pol's medical file. Being part of an investigation, the information within this medical file wasn't confidential anymore. On initiative of Senator Tenson, Starfleet Command decides to hand Commander T'Pol to the Vulcans. She faces charges and gets a prison sentence. Second rod is the matter of some remarks said during the investigation, which has become public. We don't know who leaked the information, but we do know Senator Tenson suggested leaking the information in a meeting with Admiral Black and Captain Archer."

Malcolm went on, paying no attention to Harris and Archer, who wanted to interfere at this junction. "Third rod: Commander Tucker told me he went to see someone in a position of power that could influence Vulcans. Next thing we know, he is attacked by a telepath. In a conversation with Commander Tucker, he told me that he remembers nothing of the attack, but he does remember a conversation with Senator Tenson in that same time-frame. Doctor Phlox, judging from your check-up you did after the attack, do you think Commander Tucker was in any condition to have a rational conversation with a high placed senator like Tenson?"

"I don't think so," Phlox answered.

Harris protested, but Malcolm asked for his patience. Harris bit back his objections and questions and Malcolm continued.

"Fourth rod. Like I said, the question is not who attacked, but why? If you were a Romulan spy, you would do everything necessary to keep your identity a secret. You would not randomly start to attack Starfleet officers. Just for the sake of argument, let's presume Commander Tucker went to see this highly placed person and finds out he or she has a visitor, a telepath known by him, that would not hesitate to hurt Earth. That would make this high placed person very suspicious. So I'm guessing Commander Tucker recognized the telepath, which made the person who he visited desperate to conceal his or her identity. How many telepaths do you know, Commander Tucker?"

Trip thought for a second. "The only telepaths I know capable of attacking me are Tolaris and Rajiin."

Harris raised the same question Malcolm had been struggling with. "Well, the dark haired Tolaris doesn't fit the description of a blond woman with blue eyes but Rajiin does. I've heard that Captain Archer also dreamed about a blond woman doing medical experiments on him, but the captain would have recognized Rajiin in his dreams. He knows her."

Malcolm saw Captain Archer shift uncomfortablely. It gave him the courage to ask, "Was the woman you saw in your dreams Rajiin, Captain?"

For the first time in his life, he saw the captain blush. Archer swallowed. "Yes."

Arling threw Archer a grim look and muttered that he had expected that Archer would have shared every piece of information, but T'Pol interrupted the beginning of another dispute. "I think we should concentrate on the task at hand. I may have a fifth rod."

When T'Pol saw she had everybody's attention, she continued in a steady voice, "In the early days of the Expanse, Commander Tucker had several accidents in Engineering due to his fatigue. One time an incident with a relay caused several wounds on his hands and chest. With accidents involving relays the hands are likely to get hurt, but Lieutenant Thott also had severe head wounds. That means she must have lifted the relays to her head. If she was following the path of Surak, she would not take her own life in this way."

Arling jumped in. "Lieutenant Thott had managed to infiltrate the Romulan cell and gained their trust. She told me she gathered vital information and she was about to give this to us. If her double play was discovered-"

"It's murder," Malcolm completed his sentence. "Someone murdered her, electrocuted her." He felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He should have protected her.

"I find it hard to believe that one of my Engineering crew would do such a thing," Trip remarked. He sighed. "But I've been proven wrong before."

"Not only the Engineering crew were present, there was also a tour going on in Engineering," Phlox remembered. "With Senator Tenson and Admirals Black and Chueng."

Phlox's remark made them all look in realization that one name just kept on coming up. It was Harris who put it in words. "Nice game, Lieutenant Reed. This game can easily lead to the conclusion that senator Tenson the constant factor in your theory. But aside from a circumstantial theory, you have no proof, nothing at all."

"Lieutenant Thott told me that she trusted a Vulcan man in Sweden," Malcolm suggested. He was still intrigued by this figure. "We could contact him and see if he could help us. His name was Karik."

Malcolm saw a flash of disbelief cross T'Pol's features, but it was Arling who responded. "I don't think you will find him in Sweden," he expanded on Malcolm's lead. "During the first interviews with Rianna, she told me she met a Vulcan named Karik, working in the same labor camp as her. He was the leader of a group of Vulcans that taught that every species could benefit from the teachings of Surak. The Romulan guards hated him. Rianna said he reminded her of her grandmother in many ways and, as a follower of Surak, she was easily accepted into the group. They were the ones who helped her escape. Two men were killed during that escape and I could always tell that she felt great gratitude and admiration for Karik and his followers."

Malcolm remembered Rianna's remark that Karik helped her during a difficult time. He never would have thought her difficulties were a Romulan labor camp. "She made a drawing of him, I think. He had a deformity; he was missing the top of his right ear."

Harris who had cooled off and listened intently, offered an explanation. "From what we gathered, Romulans rarely take prisoners and put them to work in labor camps if they do. The mauled ear could have resulted from an occupational injury or torture."

Phlox added, "I have limited knowledge about Romulans, but there are

many cultures in which prisoners and slaves are marked in some way."

"Does the name Karik sounds familiar, Commander T'Pol?" Malcolm turned to T'Pol. She looked up at him. Her face was more bleak then usual and her hazel eyes stared at him with a look he had seen before... in his dream about Karik.

"She has a family member by that name," Trip answered for her. "Being a prisoner of war and far away in Romulan territory, this Karik can't give us anymore information about Rianna's death. We'll have to look for other sources."

"So it looks like Karik is another dead lead," Archer commented. He had been very quiet during the meeting. "Most important is that we find this information that was worth killing her. I understood Starfleet Internal Affairs already searched her quarters on _Enterprise_ and if they had found anything, we wouldn't be having this conversation. So I suggest we look at other places, Engineering for Hoshi with the search team. She become an expert in Romulan during her assignment in Brazil. She'd recognize anything Romulan at once."

Archer's suggestion soon lead to Malcolm, together with Arling and Hoshi to search the deserted _Enterprise. _In his own department, several lockers were located and aside from the users, only the Head of Security had the access codes. In one of them, Malcolm discovered a small package under a pile of clothes and books. There was a tag attached to it. The writing looked Swedish. He gave the package to Hoshi and pointed at the tag.

"Ha den äran på födelsedagen, Malcolm. Må du vara stadig på handen och med blicken riktad mot målet," she read. She translated right away. "It means 'Happy birthday, Malcolm. May your hand be steady and your eye on the goal.' The word "mål" can mean both goal and target." Hoshi made eye contact with him for the first time. "Your birthday isn't for months."

Malcolm took the parcel and left for the armory, a safe surrounding for opening mysterious packages. When he opened the parcel, he recognized the box from _Robinson and_ _Robinson_. He opened the box. A beautiful Webley mark VI was laying in the box. She was polished and in excellent condition. He started to clean to gun, noticing that it was already spotless, done by a former Vakalian military female. Then he checked the cartridges that were laying in a row in the lower portion of the box. The third one was strangely lighter.

When he looked closer, he could see someone had removed the bullet. In the open cartridge a small piece of something was sticking out. He took it out and held it against the light. He recognized it. It was a small data stick used to store information. He could almost feel Rianna's smile, when he muttered, "Clever girl."


	17. Chapter 16 The Conclusion – part one –

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 16 **

**The Conclusion – part one**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **Starfleet is looking for a Romulan spy in their midst, who is responsible for the attack on Trip and behind the nanites that form a telepathic transmitter. Malcolm Reed's girlfriend, Lieutenant Rianna Thott, who infiltrated a Romulan terrorist cell, dies before she can disclose further information. Malcolm Reed finds a present from Thott containing an information chip.

**A****uthor's note: **Chapter 16 and 17, the final chapters, are from all the different points of views in this story: Kov, Trip, Archer, T'Pol, Phlox and Malcolm. This chapter features Kov, Trip and Archer's POV regarding events prior to Thott's death. Thanks as always to my beta KKGlinka.

**- ****Sickbay, Starfleet facility in the Kanjani-system - **

**Kov** woke up, realizing he was alive. Only 20 hours ago his life had been threatened by the nanites in his body. The only thing he could remember was a massive headache pounding at his temples and a feeling of nausea and illness. He had decided to heal himself in a trance. When he regained consciousness the first time, Doctor Green, the facility physician, had told him that the trance had made his illness worse and explained that parasitic nanites were crawling around in his body.

He underwent regular treatments now, though in only one day he had felt much better. He looked around sickbay. Several crew members were getting their treatments and Doctor Green and his team were working non-stop.

A familiar person walked into sickbay. The lines on Lieutenant Hess' face showed she was very tired. The blond woman walked toward him.

"I heard you are feeling better," Hess said. She gave him a little smile.

"Yes, the doctor's treatments have been successful. I hope you are not affected by the nanites?"

Hess gave a small sigh and cast a loving look at her belly that clearly showed she was pregnant. "I am and so is the baby. Doctor Green doesn't want to start a treatment because he is afraid it will hurt the child. So we will wait on the radiation treatments until he is born. In the meantime, Doctor Green hopes he could develop a new, less invasive treatment for the baby, it being so vulnerable."

Kov noticed the worry written on Hess' face again and searched for a saying that would comfort her.

Hess didn't give him a chance, because she continued, "Thanks for asking, Kov, but I actually came to tell you a Vulcan woman called and she wishes to speak to you. She managed to somehow access Starfleet security channels, so she had some explaining to do. If you're allowed to leave sickbay, there's a private room next door with a communication terminal. Shall I put her through that terminal?"

He nodded, trying to suppress his feelings of anxiety and expectation. T'Rel! Ever since he asked Trip to send her a message, he had been hoping and waiting for her to call. He hadn't expected she would call so soon.

He thanked Lieutenant Hess, stepped calmly out of bed, put on his robe and moved quickly to the room. He had to control his breathing when, finally, the message came through and T'Rel's lovely face filled the screen.

T'Rel had a round face with a small nose, two beautiful big brown eyes and a normal sized mouth. Her blackish-brown hair was cut to half length and it curled slightly around her head. She was more filled out than most Vulcan women and the reddish brown robe she was wearing showed her firm, but muscular upper arms. The expression on her face held the normal, blank Vulcan poise.

"You wished to speak to me," was T'Rel's introduction, her voice neutral. There was more warmth in her voice when she added, "I heard you have been ill. Did you recover well?"

"I did. Is your family well?

"They are."

"Are you well?"

"I am."

Kov knew it was time to be bold. She had not addressed him by his personal name nor by any title, indicating she was waiting for him to make the first move. "I have thought about our last conversation. It helped me very much to order my thoughts and gain new insights."

"I thought it was stimulating as well," she responded in a calm manner, but quickly enough for him to gain hope.

"I had thought to ask you if you will permit asking your father if I could talk with you on a more regular basis," he brought up with all his courage. He understood there was the problem of distance. "As we are talking now. Or we could write letters. Maybe we can read the same books and discuss them."

He saw her eyes light up for a second. "That would be agreeable."

Kov's heart was pounding. T'Rel's eyes had lit up! She had said it was agreeable. There were no objections. What was more, she hadn't mentioned a betrothal or husband. She didn't have one! "Then I will contact my father to ask your father for permission. Live long and prosper, T'Rel." He bid her farewell with the traditional gesture.

"And to you, Kov," T'Rel replied, copying his sign.

The transmission ended, the screen went black but his world was full of color. She had agreed, without hesitation. Then it hit him. Now he had to do the hardest part. He needed an intermediate that would ask permission of T'Rel's father, someone who would negotiate on his behalf. He suppressed his feeling of unrest. It was no easy task. He had to call his father.

Kov decided that there was no logic in postponing. He contacted the communication officer and explained that he had to make a call to his father on Vulcan. He was permitted to use a secure channel and an hour after Kov had taken action, he made contact with his parent's house on Vulcan. His father was home and the old general and Minister of Justice's face filled the screen, lean with short gray eyebrows that underlined his stern look.

He remembered the silent joy in his father's eyes when he graduated from his university with the highest marks, the way his father twisted the corners of his mouth to hide his fury that Kov – the son of V'Lek, son of H'Ras – had joined a cult that went against everything his family stood for, the relief and welcome in his eyes when he had left the _V'tosh ka'tur_ and returned to his family for a short while. That last memory gave him the courage to start.

First, he saw his father stiffen slightly, maybe under the impression he was talking about a Human female, then he saw him relax. The lines around his eyes showed him clearly: his father was overjoyed. He could almost hear him think, "_Finally Kov is acting like a normal Vulcan_." His father didn't care much about philosophies - he doubted if he ever had read the _Kir'shara _with much interest – but he lived and breathed the traditional Vulcan ways. Helping his son get acquainted with the woman he had chosen for Kov in the first place was probably, for his father, like eating sweet Kartali-bread on an empty stomach.

Leaving the negotiation in his father's capable hands and feeling his body needed rest, he returned to sickbay and slept for a couple of hours. When he woke up once more, the communication officer contacted him. The officer joked that he was a popular man and told him that Commander Tucker had tried to reach him.

"Put him through," he ordered the man and went to the same location as where his conversation with T'Rel had taken place. When he established contact, his first impression was that Trip looked tired and his surroundings were dark. It was probably night where he was staying on Earth. Trip smiled and seeing him close up, he clearly noticed the liveliness in his alien blue eyes. It was a total change from the man he met only a few days ago.

Trip asked how he was doing and then said he needed his help.

"I would like to be of assistance in any way I can," he answered. "What kind of help?"

Trip looked a bit shy, smiled quickly and said, "To arrange a Vulcan wedding."

"I see," he responded and while he suspected as much, he still had to ask, "For whom?"

Trip's answer was like Kartali-bread for him. "Mine."

**- San Francisco, Earth, Trips appartement - **

It was night and **Trip** was in his living room, by his desk. Hehad just ended his conversation with Kov. Everything was set in motion: Kov would contact his nephew, a Vulcan priest, and try to find a way to travel with him to Earth. He foresaw some complications with that last part because of Kov's work and illness, but his friend had said that he would find a solution. Kov would keep his mouth shut about why he wanted passage to Earth. Trip didn't want his marriage becoming public knowledge.

On the desk was one of Kov's PADD's containing Vulcan literature about the bond. When Trip read it the first time, he almost had the sensation of the desert wind on his face, the scorching heat of the sun on his head. The words were filled with aggression, pride, something feral and primitive, as if he were staring into the abyss of Vulcan's fire plains, bright red and yellow. Like he was staring into the Vulcan soul.

"_We are touch-telepaths. We feel mind, body and soul through touch. Everything we do is with great intensity and the nature of the bond links us to someone's mind and katra, so intense, we can only connect with one person. One person for our entire life. Therefore, intimate relationships outside the bond cannot exist. The thought alone is horrific."_

Trip knew this words were true. More true than any of the lies people were spreading, like he had heard tonight and which must have horrified T'Pol. He was already shaken by it, let alone T'Pol. His eyes searched in the dark for the object of his affection and he walked over to the couch.

In his living room, the only light came from his communication terminal and a lit candle placed on the v_okau, _a Vulcan stone plate,near the sofa. The glow of the flame shined on T'Pol's sleeping form resting peacefully on the couch. Strands of her chestnut hair fell gently on the pillow and her face softened when she was asleep. He stroked her cheek gently with his finger. Her breathing became deeper, as if his caress made her feel even more relaxed.

He took the candle from the v_okau, _held the stone plate in his hands and studied the marks and colors. Vulcans made such a plate to remember a loved one. When T'Pol had told him she was creating one for their daughter, he cautiously suggested red, symbolizing her world and blue, symbolizing his. T'Pol also painted some symbols in pink. Pink stood for sweetness, kindness and innocence, everything their daughter ever was. At the side he saw a symbol he knew, a circle and triangle joined together, in the same fashion Kov had shown him four days ago, the Vulcan symbol of unity, in this case, love.

"I love you," he said aloud, his eyes on the v_okau._ "I miss you. I miss you every day." He felt the tears prickling in his eyes. He blinked to push them back. "And I will do everything to protect your mother and prove evil will not win."

He put the v_okau_ back and took a seat in the sofa chair. His mind wandered back to the last days that led to this eventful evening.

Four days ago, he had felt nothing, neither from T'Pol, nor from the bond. He had thought their relationship was over and his life had felt dark and empty. Then Kov told him about telepathic avenues – and the bond – being blocked in prison and he had regained hope. Captain Archer had called him back to Earth because of the Romulan attack and he had spent the next day on a Tellerite ship, reading the literature Kov gave him. When Trip read about bond-mates making connection during meditation, he simply tried. To his astonishment, he was able to connect with T'Pol, until a piercing pain stopped him. His brain felt fried, but nevertheless, he had seen a glimpse of T'Pol.

After two days of travel, he arrived on Earth, eager and nervous to know if he could contact T'Pol again. She had been there, waiting for him. Yesterday evening, T'Pol had shared her heart with him. It was a strong antidote, a force that steadied him when he found out the shocking news that followed: The nanites in his body and the attack on him by a telepath a year ago.

Today, the lack of sleep hadn't bothered him. Despite the chaos surrounding him, everything had fallen into place. The love he felt was more like a quiet knowing in his heart, a stream of trust, running like a river though the desert of anxiety that had been his life the past year: _I belong to this women and she belongs to me._

The accident with one of his engineers and Malcolm's girlfriend had shaken him, but for Malcolm it had been a crippling blow. He stayed with him, until Mal had said he wanted to go back to his apartment alone. Seeing his best friend's white face and bewildered eyes, he didn't think that was a good idea. He had offered him a bunk, but Malcolm had declined.

When Malcolm left, Trip went to sickbay for his medical treatment and was helped by one of Phlox's assistants who happily informed him that the nanites in his body were still not working and diminishing in numbers with every treatment. He was advised to give his body a rest but Trip checked on the captain, who was still being treated for the nanites in sickbay. The treatment had taken a toll on him, but while officially on sick leave, the captain assumed his role as soon as he saw Trip. Archer told Trip he was off duty until tomorrow when he was expected for a meeting investigating Rianna's death.

Suddenly with a lot of free time, he searched for T'Pol. She had been humming in the back of his mind, a pleasant reminder of her presence. He found her in one of the science labs, diligently working. For a short moment he observed her, her short brown hair with the lighter streaks that fell alongside her face, her brown eyes focused on the object in front of her. The little lines around her eyes showed him that she was tired, the faint crinkle above her nose suggested pure concentration, but her lips reminded him of the warmth of her kiss.

Then she looked up, noticing his presence. Without needing the bond, the little spark that came into her eyes showed him she was happy and relieved to see him.

"How is Lieutenant Reed doing?" she asked.

He could feel his lips form a grim smile and he told her he was worried and that Malcolm had gone home. "If you're finished with your work, maybe you would like some dinner with me?"

"I still have to do one test. One of the people who was infected with the nanites was with child and Doctors Phlox and Green are working on a new method that would stabilize the nanites in her condition," T'Pol replied.

He offered his help and spent the next hour working side by side with T'Pol, discussing the possibilities of treatment. He enjoyed observing her scientific precision and imagination. After they finished, T'Pol filed her report and went with him, still talking about the nanites and the events surrounding Rianna Thott's death. T'Pol was unambiguous in her response to his doubts that he may have overlooked an engineering problem, causing the accident.

"If you have no indication at all that you have forgotten something in the tests, and all the try-outs you did were flawless, the cause has to be found somewhere else."

He smiled at her, his eyes searching her face, thinking how in her logical, Vulcan way she managed to put his mind at rest.

At that moment two women passed them by, noticing their interaction. They whispered something to each other he couldn't hear, but when he greeted them with a nod, he saw both of them casting a look on T'Pol that could only be interpreted as hostile. He was treated with a stare of pity. He shrugged. He couldn't care less about gossiping women.

They continued on their way, visited a nearby store for some food and took the shuttle bus to his apartment. It was there when he realized their conversation had become one sided.

"Penny for your thoughts," he teased T'Pol, curious about what she had been thinking. He didn't get a witty reply about old currencies and the use of the Starfleet credit card, which he half expected.

T'Pol sat down and, with some hesitation, handed him a PADD. "I did not plan on bringing this up, especially with all the events that happened today, but this is too much of a coincidence, so investigation may be wise," she explained. "I received this letter today. I am not disturbed by the content – they are the normal accusations – but one detail led me to believe the source is a highly placed person in Starfleet and, given the last threat, I think there is reason for concern."

He became ill at ease hearing her words. He searched her face for any indication how she felt, but T'Pol's face was as closed as any Vulcan's could be. He could feel bits and pieces of her emotions through the bond, but it was vague, like she was holding back.

Before he had a chance to look at the PADD, T'Pol continued, "The letter quotes something I said during the investigation of Terra Prime. That information is classified, so someone with access to those files must have written this treat letter."

A suspicion dawned on him, yet he asked, "Which words?"

"That my intimate relationship with you was in the past," she answered. "The letter uses the exact same words. It all points to someone in Starfleet."

"T'Pol, what you said during the investigation is pretty much common knowledge. Someone leaked those words to the press. It was all over the news, just days after you went to prison."

A sense of astonishment, bordering horror, entered his mind. Still, her voice stayed neutral. "That we have been intimate is public knowledge?"

"Our relationship and the end of it is," he responded. He didn't want to sound bitter and bring the subject up, but a whole year of frustration and pain took its toll and the words flooded out of his heart. "Before and during the investigation we grieved together. We kissed, we were holding each other, we slept in each other arms, remember? We were intimate. It pretty much stung when you denied that."

"I did not," T'Pol answered. He sensed anger and confusion, when she added, "The assistant investigator who asked me had seen the pictures of us kissing. He knew we were romantically involved. Still, he asked about our intimate relationship. Humans take great interest in sex, especially when it comes to an alien woman. He asked all these personal questions and he would have continued to ask them. Given the circumstances, I had to answer honestly. Our last encounter was a long time ago."

_You don't have to tell me_, he thought. He missed being with her. He always loved that T'Pol was a passionate women and he wanted to hold her, feel her, love her. It been too long, much too long.

He shrugged his feelings of unrest and answered her. "T'Pol, you have been with Humans a long time. I understand you wanted the guy to shut up – I wanted that too – but by now you have know Humans don't ask what's going on in the bedroom in public."

"My experience is different. They asked those questions. When I joined _Enterprise, _I became aware that people found me attractive. The emotions people were displaying while they watched me were overwhelming, confusing, fascinating and repulsive at the same time. I shielded myself against those emotions. I made sure nobody acted on them, but I must admit I was curious as well. They were emotions that I must control," she explained. "Not that I regret certain emotions."

With a small pause she continued, "What I found puzzling was that there seemed to be a desire to twist those emotions. What I have read in the threat letters, seen it in the looks... I have heard it before. They not only called me certain names, but indicated I was using my sex appeal - as they called it - to manipulate Humans into working for me."

"Whoa," he interrupted her, "things that you've heard before? People have said this to your face?"

"I have good ears," she said simply, "and the matter of my sexual appeal is a common conception among Humans."

He rapidly felt his anger raise at his own race, judging a woman they hardly had exchanged a word with, a woman who lost everything while helping them. "They are lies, T'Pol, stupid insults from gossiping people who have nothing else to do than break down someone who's different. In the years I worked with you, you never flirted with any crew member or officer in Starfleet. You never charmed your way in, threw smiles at someone to make them work faster."

He wasn't stupid. T'Pol was an attractive woman. He had noticed that from the moment he saw her beautiful face and the way her clothing outlined her curves. He had eyes in his head, and judging from remarks by other guys on _Enterprise_, they had too. Only when T'Pol became more and more a part of the crew and people started working with her, had those remarks died out. Or people stopped commenting on her when he was around. He didn't know or care, but what he did know was that T'Pol didn't use her looks or sex appeal – he hated that phrase - to get things done. The thought alone made him mad.

"Charming your way in, isn't really the Vulcan way," T'Pol commented dryly, calming his anger a bit. Like she was analyzing the subject out loud, she pointed out, "Although I did make a sexual remark to distract an intruder on _Enterprise._"

"Compared with the thousand other times you didn't, it can hardly be called typical of you," Trip refuted. He was the only true friend she had on the ship. She was all alone, serving in a Human world, paying the price for being isolated."You always acted professional, scientific and work orientated. In fact, you acted in such a manner that people see you as the logical Vulcan, the first officer and nothing more. With the exception of me, of course."

"You fall under a very different category," T'Pol remarked in a low, warm voice.

Apparently good memories filled her mind, because in her eyes he saw the glint of an all too familiar look, a mixture of desire, curiosity and amusement. He wasn't the only one who was longing. He grinned, feeling vindicated that he was the only person she would flirt with, but before he could reply a call from the communication terminal interrupted them.

It was some one of his engineers, worried about Thott's accident. He put him at ease. When he was finished, he saw the PADD laying down on the table. It suddenly hit him. T'Pol had spoken about threat _letters_.

"This isn't the first threat letter someone send you. Why didn't you mention it before?" he asked.

T'Pol had a tendency to keep things from that would make him uncomfortable. He suspected it was mostly because she didn't want to burden him and because she was so used to fighting her battles alone. If they were going to make their relationship work, she needed to know that in troubled times they were in it together.

"I received two letters of this kind after the Xindi attack and one after we returned from our travel in the Expanse," she replied. "Remember the day we went to the beach and I was wearing a purple shawl to cover my ears? You asked me about it."

Trip's mind went back to that day. "You said it was a precaution, because you had some trouble with anti-Vulcan sentiments. I had no idea a threat letter was part of it," he recalled, irritated at her for not telling him about the letter and angry at the entire world for not leaving T'Pol in peace.

"There was also another one," her voice became slightly unstable, only noticeable to someone who knew her very well. "When I returned from Vulcan after visiting my mother. All of them made the same accusations like in this letter. Only the last lines are different and that's why I brought this one up."

"Otherwise you wouldn't? Doesn't it bother you that someone's threatening you?"

"The opinions of others about me I cannot change, but I must take action if they are threatening to hurt people. In the others letters, Vulcans are given derogatory names involving emotional robots that shouldn't be on Earth. This letter claims that Vulcans are on Earth with the sole purpose of taking over and, in the long run, will be responsible for the eradication of Humans and their culture," she explained, making her logic sound flawless.

"That is a step further. I am more concerned about these negative portrayals of Vulcans, slipping into the minds of people, making them hostile toward us, judging us without knowing us. Thoughts such as those poison society, giving them justifications for violence. In that respect, I see more danger in general threats or threats against people important to me than personal attacks on me."

Her last words suddenly gave him an idea. He was still holding the PADD T'Pol had given him. Trip turned it on and scrolled quickly through the words of hate that made him sick to his stomach. He swallowed when he read about the ugly sneers over his daughter and he saw his hunch confirmed when he read the death treat against him. He wanted to wash his mind of the foul thoughts. He felt horrible but that feeling was pushed away by pure anger. He didn't care about a treat against his life; the fact that they smeared his daughter's memory and tried to hurt T'Pol, it had to stop. The line was drawn there.

He turned the PADD so that T'Pol could see the front. Without saying anything, his fingers pushed "Delete". He looked into her eyes. "Nobody is going to insult or hurt you, not when I have something to say about it. Nobody talks this way about you or our daughter."

He noticed a sense of gratification from her after hearing his words, but she remarked simply, her eyes not leaving his face, "It is impossible to stop what people think or write."

He shrugged. "I don't care what people do or say. It's our business what we do and how we deal with our relationship and if it was up to me, we'd get married soon, make our bond official."

"You want to marry me?" T'Pol asked carefully.

"It would be the logical course of action," he said. He almost sounded Vulcan, but it was logical for him. T'Pol was the only person who had provoked such strong feelings, the only one he could think of marrying. According to ancient Vulcan customs, they already were.

There was a small hint of amusement in her voice, a tone that he hadn't heard in a long time when T'Pol responded, "There is the Earth custom of asking the bride, on both knees, I have heard. If we are combining both cultures..."

Trip realized that no matter which planet they came from, in some respect, women were all the same. "One knee," he corrected her. "One is enough."

She raised an eyebrow and he got down on one knee and took her hand. He couldn't find poetic words to say and they weren't needed anyway. "I love you. Marry me." When he looked at her, expecting her to say something Vulcan such as, 'That would be agreeable', he felt a small, but strong desire that she would simple say 'yes'. Not agreeable, just 'yes'.

"_Terau,"_ she whispered and although he didn't understand the word, it sent shivers through his body. Her beautiful face was at peace and her brown eyes were shining with joy and the conviction that they were making the right choice, taking the right step, when he heard her answer, "Yes."

He stood up. His eyes on her, he took her petite face into his hands. His fingers went through her hair, caressing it. His thumbs softly massaged her temples, until her eyes drifted shut. Sparks of the bond sputtered between them, electrical impulses connecting them. On impulse, he opened his mind, like he had done before when he first made contact with T'Pol on the Tellarite ship. Spontaneously, she reached out to him, opening herself, her mind to him. In an instant, he was flooded by a sea of overwhelming emotions, which left him disoriented. The streams of emotions were wrenched into control and he saw images and memories flashing by, before their minds became one.

The rest of the evening went by in a happy blur, only to be interrupted by Malcolm's visit. His friend had decided that he would rather spend his misery in company rather than alone. Trip invited him to stay and spend the night in the guest room. T'Pol was called away and when she came back, she made her bed on the sofa. It wasn't exactly how he planned it, but under the circumstances – T'Pol still recovering from her prison time and everything that went on this day and evening - he didn't push the subject.

* * *

During the night, T'Pol had a nightmare. Through the bond he could sense it was the same dark dream as before: A wall of ice, a black void, thick clouds, angry voices, faces from the past: The Suliban that tortured T'Pol, Tolaris, a former fellow prisoner.

He went to her and woke her from her dream. She stared at him for a moment with an almost wild look and tensed slightly when he put his arms around her. Exhaustion emanated from her. She felt warmer then usual and he could see small drops of sweat on her forehead. He could smell her familiar scent, a mixture of copper and spices.

"I thought meditation stopped you from dreaming," he remembered.

"I need more meditation to process the events of last year," her voice came. He sensed her regaining self-control, but she was still on guard. Wanting to make her relax he returned to their old routine.

"Breath," he whispered.

She hesitated for a split second and then nodded.

He searched for the neural nodes in her neck and kneaded them gently. He noticed a scar on her neck, close to her ear, the place where the prison device had been. He felt her relax. Then he moved his hands under her pajama top to massage the nodes running along her shoulders.

"Maybe you should lay down on your stomach," he suggested.

Without a word she did, placing her head sideways on the pillow and closing her eyes.

Underneath his fingertips he felt narrow thickened patches on her back, making her skin uneven. It took him a second to realize they were scars, more reminders of her imprisonment. Forcing himself to ignore them, pushing aside his outrage lest it disturb her, he focused on finding and palpitating the neural nodes along her spine until her breath took on an even rhythm.

He slowly removed his hands. Leaning over her, his lips touched the bare skin of her neck in a kiss, waiting for her to respond. But her eyes were closed and she was breathing slowly. T'Pol had fallen asleep.

Unlike her, he couldn't sleep anymore and in the darkness of the night, he turned on his communication device and contacted Kov. He had to take care of some business and so he did, before he went back to bed and drifted quickly back to sleep.

**- Starfleet Headquarters, Doctor Phlox's sickbay - **

**Jonathan Archer **hardly spent a day in sickbay in his life. The bio-bed on which he lay was too hard, the smell in sickbay made him nauseous and the sounds downright annoyed him. If he were honest, they reminded him too much of his weird dreams about Rajiin.

In the dreams, he woke up in a sort of sickbay, his head in a weird helmet and his hands wired to an IV. The dreams had upset him, frightened him, but more than that, made him angry deep down inside. It was that fury, rooted in the fact that Rajiin had used him that made him snap in a way he never had, when Phlox was examining him and he saw a blond woman entering sickbay. "I am not going to be your lab rat once more," he had thought and that was the last thing he remembered before waking up in this bed.

He knew he had attacked the woman and she had defended herself. Jon could still feel the bruise on his neck. Somehow her pinch had rendered him unconscious. He closed his eyes, but the visions of Rajiin, mixed with the events in sickbay, him strangling Rianna Thott came into his mind.

He doubted if Phlox's treatment was working. The nanites in the other patients were diminished by every treatment, but he still felt like he was crawling out of his skin. He heard a sound and, opening his eyes, saw Trip's familiar face.

"There are some new developments in the case," Trip told him. "Your presence at the investigation into Lieutenant Thott's death is requested."

Two hours later, Jon returned to his bed in sickbay. The meeting had cost him more energy than he was willing to admit. He was happy to have been part of the action, instead of laying down in sickbay. "_Some new developments in the case" _Trip had called it. Since when had Trip become a master of understatement? His head was swirling with all the new information.

First of all, Rianna Thott had been an alien woman, working for Starfleet Intelligence. He'd known something was off about her, but had waved it away, blaming his weird dreams for being so antsy. Thott had infiltrated a Romulan cell in order to find a spy who worked inside Starfleet. Senator Tenson's name kept keeping cropping up. He knew Tenson, she was a hard working woman that earned her nickname as the iron lady. Was she a Romulan spy? Jon found it hard to believe. But then again, it looked like Raijin was involved as well.

He'd always thought she was forced into working for the Xindi and attacking his crew members but Reed's logical arguments in the meeting were hard to counter. When Reed explained that the telepath had to be someone Trip knew, the list of suspects was very small and only one fit the description of a blond woman with blue eyes. He knew that better than anyone else. He dreamed about her every night.

So when Harris brought up his dreams and asked why he hadn't recognized Raijin in his dreams, he'd never felt so embarrassed. He had failed the men and women he respected and he expected to see contempt in their eyes. It didn't happen, merely astonishment that he had failed to report such an important detail. He should be grateful they hadn't court marshaled him.

He got into a sitting position on the bed, placing his pillow behind him, too restless to sleep again. Looking to at his hands, he had the odd sensation that his world was falling apart. He had failed himself. He had failed to save his crew from disaster. He hadn't fixed the problem and even now he couldn't be much of a help. To make it worse, his friends didn't need him anymore. Trip and T'Pol – he could ignore all the little signs, but it was getting harder to deny – were back together as a formidable team. Hoshi... When was the last time he spoke to her? What did he know about her?

"Captain," Phlox's official doctor's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I came here to check on you." Doctor Phlox stood at his bedside and soon did some small tests to examine his heath.

"Is everything fine, doctor?" he asked, more out of routine than curiosity.

"Your body is recovering, but I'm more worried about your mental state. How are you doing, Jonathan?" Phlox smiled at him, the polite, encouraging intimation of an experienced professional.

Still, it was so long since anyone besides Erika had called him 'Jonathan' and he wasn't deaf to the sympathy in Phlox's voice. So he answered more honestly than he had in a long time "I don't think the treatments are working. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin."

"Helpless and impotent," Phlox suggested.

"How did do you know?" he asked, surprised that Phlox had put his feeling so well in words.

"That's how you looked liked when I arrived," Phlox explained. "You were used without your knowledge or consent, but on a fundamental level, you believe you could have prevented it. It's natural to feel guilty, but it wasn't your fault."

"A whole year is gone and my friends were hurt. Starfleet and Earth – if the nanites hadn't been discovered, Earth would've been offered to the Romulans on a silver platter. I saw nothing. Did nothing. I failed everyone," he burst out.

"I think you don't understand your condition. Of all the individuals I examined you were the most affected by the nanites," Phlox responded. "The transmitter was fully built in your brain and influencing you. Judging from your dreams and advancements the nanites made, you were probably the first Human to be infected, directly, like a test subject. No wonder you weren't yourself."

"Can the damage be undone?" Jon asked, worried about his condition. "Can't you operate on me and remove the nanites and transmitter? I want those things out of my body as soon as possible."

"I understand, but operating is very dangerous. The brain is very important and vulnerable part of the Human body. The best way is this slow method. It's understandable you feel like you're crawling out of your skin - interesting impression, by the way." Phlox paused. "Not just your body needs healing, but also your soul."

"But for now I'm pretty useless," he concluded.

"Nobody is useless. You are still the captain," Phlox answered. "Look, your talent is to gather great individuals with great skills. They follow you because they trust you. That hasn't changed. Because of your suggestion, they searched for a clue Lieutenant Thott left on _Enterprise._ I just heard your idea paid off: they found an information chip, filled with Romulan data, a real breakthrough. So, Captain, join your team, rely on their unique abilities and add your own. You're a man of action..."

"And to do something and fight them, helps me," Jon finished his sentence. He knew it wasn't that simple, but Jon felt a little bit better. He wanted to believe Doctor Phlox was right.

"I couldn't have said it better," Phlox agreed and bared an enormous Denobulan smile.

You could cut through the tension in the room with a knife. Everyone involved in the investigation was present when Hoshi showed them the results of her examination of the information chip.

"It's a huge Romulan database containing information about every person in Starfleet, including the gardener of Starfleet Headquarters," Hoshi shared. She looked excited. For a linguist this was a discovery of a lifetime. "It gives us information about what Romulans know and what they think about us. Because of our knowledge of the Romulan language we developed, using the material we found on the Romulan ship in the Kanjani system, it wasn't hard to translate. There is so much data! I looked for a way to determine what was of importance to the author of the compilation, so I looked for the person with the most file pages."

Hoshi rearranged the files by volume and there it was. "T'Pol's file, complete with pictures of her youth, two separate files about her parents, Karik and T'Les, a link to a file about Soval, another to Commander Tucker-"

"T'Pols father's name is Karik?" Jon inquired. It daunted him. What exactly had Trip said during the meeting? "_She has a family member by that name."_ Talk about telling the truth, but not revealing anything. Trip was spending too much time with Vulcans.

Hoshi nodded to his question but Malcolm had another. "Who's got the smallest file."

Hoshi searched again. "Senator Tenson. Only one page."

"That doesn't make sense," Phlox remarked. "From what I gathered she is one of the most powerful people in Starfleet."

"Again circumstantial evidence," Harris said. "If only Commander Tucker remembered who attacked him and if that attack was linked to Tenson, we would have a reason to bring her in for questioning."

"When Phlox was abducted by Klingons, Commander T'Pol did a mind-meld with me to retrieve my memory. I also remember Ambassador Soval doing the same to find out more about who bombed the Vulcan embassy," Hoshi suggested.

"That's a good idea," Jon said.

"Commander Tucker's memory has been erased," T'Pol refuted almost harshly. "So, having a mind-meld would not gain any information. It would be dangerous to access his memory of the events. He's suffered enough already from a telepathic attack."

"I understand your concern, Commander, but I have read about another similar case where a mind-meld was successful in providing information and didn't harm the person involved," Doctor Phlox brought up . "That attack was a year ago. The nanites in his brain are no longer functioning, almost gone completely, and the Commander is in perfect health. Besides, I could monitor you both during the meld."

"I don't mind a meld with T'Pol to find out the truth," Trip joined the discussion.

T'Pol, arms folded against her chest, gave him a stare of annoyance. The quiet withdrawn T'Pol Jon had seen in the past days was gone. Her stance reminded him so much of her first years on _Enterprise_: His first officer bickering with Trip. Jon couldn't help but to feel amused, almost giddy. Things were getting back to normal.

T'Pol made another objection, saying that she lacked the necessary skills for this kind of mind-meld.

"Trust me, T'Pol, I know a mind-meld with you will give us some answers. I'm sure," Trip pleaded with absolutely certainty. He then suggested a private room, though they would carry monitors, while Phlox recorded their vital signs from a nearby room.

Jon stayed with Phlox and stared at a large screen where a series of lines were charted on a grid. The doctor explained that the lines indicated that Trip and T'Pol were talking. Several coded green lines were fluctuating upward, while another set were plunging, but Phlox didn't pay attention to them. He started making affirming sounds when a blue line became active.

"What that's line?" Jon wanted to know all the details of this meld. Why had Trip been so sure?

"Those are theta waves; the meld has started," Phlox explained.

A short while after, he saw the two sets of green lines reverse, with those that had fallen earlier skyrocketing and their counterparts dropping. "Are those brain waves as well?" Jon asked.

Phlox looked bemused. "No, those are Commander Tucker's neuro-chemical levels." He pointed in a rapid series, and added in explanation, "Here his cortisol, adrenaline and testosterone levels spiked, but then dropped as his endorphin, seratonin, dopamine and oxytocin elevated. Apparently, Commander T'Pol let him relive some happy memories before going back in his mind to review the attack, a wise course of action. Those neurotransmitters protect the body and mind by helping to build up a resistance against stress."

Slowly, he saw T'Pol's neurotransmitter levels mirroring Trip's, as if they flowed back and forth. Once matched, the hormones indicating stress paradoxically rose before peaking and fading, followed by a rise in their soothing counterparts. After some time, the levels stabilized, though distinctly biased in favor of calm and happy, according to Phlox's description.

"The mind-meld is finished," Phlox told him.

Jon went to the room, where Trip and T'Pol were staying. Trip was sitting in a chair, leaning against the cushions. He looked exhausted, but also totally at peace. T'Pol rested on another chair, across from him.

Trip looked up. "It was Tenson," he said, "and Raijin."

Arling gathered a team, found out Tenson was staying at her house at Stenson beach and went to apprehend her for questioning. He emphasized that he would move with caution, because of her high status in Starfleet. He would report in an hour.

When he didn't, Harris got restless. They all got nervous when they tried and failed to communicate with Arling and his team.

"All the lines are dead, sir," Hoshi told him.

Harris was quiet for a moment, then looked at Jon and gave a stiff nod.

Jon gathered his own team: Harris, Malcolm with two security officers and T'Pol.

When they arrived at the house, it looked dark and deserted. They rang the bell, they knocked, but nobody answered. T'Pol's face became pensive before she said, "There is a sound in the house, much like moaning. I believe someone is wounded."

That was enough incentive for Harris to kick open the door, wood splintering around the latch. All of them palmed their phasers and walked slowly into the house.

It was Malcolm who saw the first person, laying on the floor. It was one of Arling's team. Malcolm checked his vital signs. "He's dead."

They found another body and close behind him, Arling. He was still alive, just barely. He held his hands to his chest, laying in a pool of his own blood.

"Archer," he whispered. Shivering, he continued, "She knew. She shot us before we had a chance. Tenson has to be the Romulan spy. Get her."

"Where is she going?"

Arling didn't answer. He turned to T'Pol and whispered, "_Skil-tor ahkh s__vi__'__k__ashkau t'ausutra."_

It sounded Vulcan and Jon asked T'Pol. "What did he say?"

T'Pol put her hands on Arling's in a gentler way than he'd ever seen a Vulcan do. Her eyes never left Arling's and, looking at him intensely, she translated, "The war is won in the minds of the people."

"Karik knew," Arling continued to say, breathing heavily.

T'Pol was still holding his hands, his red blood staining her fingers.

Arling stared at her, "Unification. Told Soval everything." His breathing became more and more erratic. "Tell my wife... tell my children..."

When help arrived to take away the bodies and inspect the house, Jon's communicator chirped.

"Captain, this is Admiral Black. We have located Tenson. She is heading to an unknown location aboard an Orion ship. _Enterprise_ is going to launch right away and you are going to hunt her down."


	18. Chapter 17 The Conclusion part two

The captives

By panyasan

**Chapter 17 **

**The Conclusion – part two**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Summary: **The investigation into a Romulan spy operating within Starfleet leads to one prime suspect: Senator Tenson. When Starfleet officer Arling and his team go to bring her in for questioning, they fail to report back. A second team that includes Archer and T'Pol go in, finding Arling close to death after being shot by Tenson. The senator has escaped and the _Enterprise _crew is ordered to chase her down.

**A****uthor's note: **Chapter 16 and 17 are from multiple points of view: Kov, Trip, Archer, T'Pol, Phlox and Malcolm. Thanks to my beta KKglinka.

**- Starship **_**Enterprise,**_** launch bay -**

******T'Pol**** entered the ship with the captain. T**he first thing she noticed was the coldness of the ship. Outlined in the blue tints Starfleet seemed to like so much and the use of metallic materials, the temperature of the improved_ Enterprise_ made her shiver.

"Wait here," he ordered her. "We have two additions to our crew on this mission. Admiral Black has already arrived and is waiting in my ready room. Ambassador Soval is also joining us. When he arrives, you must guide him to the bridge. We leave as soon as possible. Every minute we wait gives Tenson more chance to escape."

T'Pol couldn't help that the thought of Tenson's name alone raised unexpected emotions. In the few minutes before the ambassador arrived, her mind went back to the mind-meld with Trip, the moment she had seen Raijin attack Trip.

* * *

Trip closed the door to on_e_ of sickbay's examination rooms. It possessed the typical smell he associated with medical wards, along with the ubiquitous blue décor. There were several small cabinets on the wall, in the corner a sink and water tub, two bio beds, two chairs and a table. T'Pol turned around to face Trip. She was not very pleased with the idea of a mind-meld to find the memory of the telepath's attack on Trip. T'Pol saw the danger in this activity, but apparently the others did not.

Trip slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close.

"Hadn't got my morning kiss yet," he murmured against her ear.

She pulled away and looked him in the face. Blue eyes with a sparkle of amusement met hers. It only fueled her disconnectedness and confusion which she focused hard to suppress.

"I think we have more crucial things to discuss than signs of affection in the morning. A mind-meld to disclose memories is not without danger, especially when that memory has been 'erased'," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "This is not like the meld we shared last night." She pushed the memories of that agreeable event aside.

"I'm aware of the danger, T'Pol." Trip squeezed her arms lightly. His eyes were serious again. The sparkle was gone and she regretted that it was her doing.

"Are you?" she asked him, searching his face.

"I am," he convinced her. "But I have to find the truth, T'Pol. I don't want to live with a gap in my memory. I have the same feeling now as when I woke up from my coma in the Expanse: That someone stole days of my life. This time the feeling is worse because they did steal, not only my memory of the attack, but my life, you. That's why I think we gotta do everything to find out the truth. I need you for this. Without you, we can't find the truth."

"I think you overestimate my influence, Trip," she replied softly.

"No, because it's your memory we're looking for. Remember? I never saw that blond woman that attacked me. You did, during mediation."

He was right. She remembered the vision she had during her mediation, the certainty she had known that someone had attacked Trip and the fury that had filled her. They hadn't told anyone it was her vision, instead of Trip's observation, because it was hard to explain. Even for her.

"There is no logical explanation for that event."

"Maybe there is." His voice cracked a bit and she saw lines on his face that indicated he was stressed. She had felt it before, just minutes ago, when they entered the room, but had ignored it. Trip's actions didn't seem to match with that emotion. Now she realized his remark about a morning kiss was his way of hiding that his emotions were running high or maybe a way to release some of his stress. She had learned the hard way that humor was used by Humans to relax in times of anxiety. His need to touch also indicated the same.

Trip took the lead. "Look, we can both feel each others strong emotions. I know you dream a lot about being attacked but dreaming isn't normal for a Vulcan. You've been through a lot – that could be an explanation – but maybe it has to do with you seeing the attack and feeling my emotions at that time. I don't know. Maybe you were sleeping, unconscious that the vision of my attack ended in your memory," he suggested.

Those were all scientifically unproven speculations, but one thing she could not deny: She had seen flashes of a blond woman with blue eyes and had known for certain she had attacked Trip. "If the truth is hidden in my mind, we must proceed," she agreed.

First she acted on what she had learned and went out of her way to make him relax. She leaned over and gave him a kiss. It always filled her with pride, a pride that she shouldn't feel, to notice how he responded to her kiss. It achieved her aim; his body lost its rigidity and, eagerly, he kissed her back. For a moment, feeling his mouth and tongue was the only thing that mattered. She broke off, and in his eyes was that glint of amusement again.

"Good morning, future Mrs. Tucker," he teased her.

She controlled her desire to kiss him again and laid out her plan. "First, I will attempt to make you relive happy memories. Hopefully it will stimulate your endorphin, seratonin, dopamine and oxytocin levels. They are neurotransmitters that protect the body and mind by helping to build up a resistance against stress."

He only smiled slightly, amused by her explanation and she proceeded. She placed her hands on his temples. T'Pol searched her memories for good ones to share with him. Then she realized that a lot of the happy moments between them were tainted by negative emotions: Stress, grief, confusion. Remembering their last meld, she opened up her mind to show him the only thing that she could offer: Her affection for him. Placing her desire for him under guard – that emotion was overwhelming enough that she feared it would interfere with the mind-meld – she focused deep inside her katra.

The next moment they were surrounded by streams of emotions: Protection, care, patience, selflessness, tenderness, power, passion. She felt Trip's body responding, his tender touch was on her back, his mouth on hers. For another brief moment they sank into this emotion, then she took his hand. "We need to go."

"Yeah," his voice, thickened with emotion, seemed to come from afar.

Their surroundings evaporated like fog and they found themselves standing on a beach. Seagulls were floating in the air, hovering more than flying. They could feel a soft breeze and faint drizzle from the sky. Her eyes went from the restaurant nearby to the picnic tables close to them. "This is Stenson beach."

She saw large rectangular, shining, glass-like objects, halfway tucked in the sand, in rows of five by five. When they examined them, they seemed to be giant information chips, like those used in a computer. Somehow their joined minds had created this image. She laid her hand on one of the squares and, staring into the glass, saw memories come flooding by, scenes from their life – silent, without a word - to be experienced again

She saw her and Trip standing in sickbay, watching over their sick daughter. She hung her father's da ek'zuru on the incubator and Trip nodded in pure understanding.

She experienced again Trip entering her cabin, crying. He sat down next to her, they held hands and grieved.

Other memories arose: Her and Trip holding each other, trying to sleep in a dark night.

Her entering his quarters – finding pictures Doctor Phlox had taken of their daughter on his desk. Standing frozen to the ground and staring at one picture without seeing, she had felt Trip's good arm around her waist. Holding her in an embrace, he comforted her.

The scenery changed and she saw a pale face with plump cheeks and red hair: Lieutenant O'Neil, Arling's assistant. She could see signs of curiosity and hidden glee in his features when he asked her about her relationship with Trip. She was tired to her bones, exhausted by grief, the interrogation and his voice wouldn't stop.

Then she found herself during that final investigative meeting with Trip, the captain, Doctor Phlox, Lieutenant Arling and his assistants Lieutenant O'Neill and Ensign Custer, listening as her addiction was revealed.

The scenery changed again. Now she observed she was in the same room where her verdict was delivered by the captain. She was going to face charges in a Vulcan court. When the captain left, she turned to Trip. He was angry and assured his help. He kissed her quickly and told her to meditate and get some sleep.

She saw herself meditating and going to bed, then saw Trip talking to Lieutenant Reed. Afterward, Trip walked toward the front desk of Starfleet Headquarters. The receptionist was pleased to see him and, with a smile, answered him. Trip looked disappointed over what she had said. He turned around, but then she called him back. The look on her face was all too familiar – a mixture of admiration and flirtation. She gave him a small piece of paper. Trip thanked her and she gave him the sunniest smile possible.

Next she noticed Trip was in his car, driving. It was getting dark when he stopped at a lonely street. She recognized the place – it was near Stenson beach. When he walked toward one of the houses, a door opened and a blond woman stepped out. An elderly woman had led her out. Trip stared at the younger woman's face. He said her name, astonishment on his face. Raijin. The blond woman froze, panic on her face. Then she jumped at Trip, hands on his face.

A piercing pain burned through both of them. The heat was unbearable. She felt him fighting Raijin off – he struggled – he fought – and the pain and fire become worse and worse – she felt sick – nauseous – like someone was crushing her mind and katra – then darkness came.

A whisper – "This you will remember – You wanted to say goodbye to T'Pol before she had to face the trial on Vulcan. I said, 'You are only a co-worker to T'Pol, so you have no right to contact her.' This you will remember -"

The message repeated itself, tormenting both of them with the sound of Tenson's voice and she decided it was time to end it. She reached out and found Trip. She retreated slowly, to finish the meld gently. It took a moment to register that Trip was trembling in her arms and terribly pale

"Gonna be sick," he muttered, still shaking. Then he broke off and ran toward the sink. She only saw his back, but she could hear him vomit.

She walked toward him, not sure what to do. She rinsed out the sink and gave him a glass of water.

Trip gargled, spit, then gulped some water. He put the glass down and pulled her toward him.

In his embrace she could feel his distress. On instinct, she pulled him closer, telling him to control his breathing like he was used to doing during their neuropressure sessions. His breathing became more even. She stroked his hair, soft strands of blond between her fingers. He reached up to grip her hands clenching them tightly with the desire to feel her. She opened her katra again to comfort him with all her love.

So they stood, until Trip spoke, "Thanks for going all the way."

They sat back in the chairs. Trip brought his hand to his head, like he was experiencing the same headache as she and he closed his eyes for a minute, leaning against the cushions of his chair. When Trip opened his eyes again, fully calm and in control, she noticed he wanted to say something. He couldn't, because the captain entered the room, asking them about the mind-meld.

Trip looked up. "It was Tenson," he answered, "and Raijin."

* * *

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps in a Vulcan rhythm all too familiar to her. She focused again on the present and saw Ambassador Soval standing before her. He greeted her.

"Have you been apprised of our situation?" she asked him.

"In full detail. I understand that you and Commander Tucker had a mind-meld to retrieve his memories," he answered calmly.

"We discovered that Commander Tucker wanted to speak with Senator Tenson about my case. She was the liaison of Vulcan affairs at that time," she told the ambassador. "The senator had already left Starfleet Headquarters. When the commander went to her home address, he accidentally met Raijin, who panicked and attacked him."

"I heard the receptionist at Headquarters gave him the senator's private address. I thought only direct superiors and Internal Affairs are allowed to receive that information," Ambassador Soval remarked.

"That is true, but the receptionist wanted to help Commander Tucker in an attempt to gain his favor," she replied. "So, Senator Tenson had no reason to expect Commander Tucker at her house, where she had a meeting with Raijin."

"The final piece of the puzzle," the ambassador concluded. "Admiral Black, Lieutenant Arling and I have been investigating this case for a long time."

His remark confirmed her own hypothesis, after hearing Arling's dying words, speaking of her father, Karik, and Soval.

"I suspected as much," T'Pol remarked, "though it was not a development I expected, given the difficult relationship between Vulcans and Humans at this moment."

"I am the only Vulcan involved. Lieutenant Arling was very committed to Starfleet, but he was open-minded enough to ask for help if he trusted someone. He trusted me because there were indicators you and I were victims of the same spy they were trying to find."

At her questioning look, Soval expanded, "It is a simple story. After the investigation of Terra Prime, Lieutenant Arling felt his work was used to discredit you maliciously. He and his assistant, Lieutenant O'Neil, started to reexamine all the evidence in secrecy. After a couple of months, Lieutenant O'Neil indicated that he had found a crucial clue, but soon after that, he resigned from Starfleet and was nowhere to be found. When Arling searched for answers, he found out that O'Neil's girlfriend, Ensign Hayes, had been in a shuttle accident. O'Neil never visited her once in the hospital. The accident gave Arling an idea. He saw a pattern."

T'Pol understood. "The shuttle accident of your son and his family."

"Exactly. My son and his family were seriously injured by an accident after the events of Terra Prime. I was needed on Vulcan and therefore absent during the investigation of Terra Prime and your extradition to the Vulcan court. It is not unusual for people to use the same methods that worked for them once before. You silence your target by hurting their loved ones, in O'Neil's and my case, by creating an accident."

Giving more details, Soval recounted, "Admiral Black and Lieutenant Arling asked me for another reason as well. They needed a person with good knowledge of Vulcan language and history. Judging by his computer logs, O'Neil was busy during the time of his disappearance translating Vulcan words. I was able to reconstruct the original words he wanted to translate and form a sentence: '_Skil-tor ahkh svi'kashkau t'ausutra '____. _I told Admiral Black and Lieutenant Arling that this isa quote from Surak, a saying many politicians have used, and also the full name of a Vulcan rebel group we heard about."

"Lead by a man called Karik," interrupted T'Pol. "My father has the same name and used those words in his famous address to the senate."

She stopped. Turning to the ambassador, she stared into his familiar face. Memories of their long history surfaced. He had helped her, sometimes rebuked her, but had always had been honest with her. There had been a question burning in her mind ever since her father's name was mentioned in the investigation.

Settling her upraised emotions and addressing him by his Vulcan title, she asked, "_Del'haiu_, is my father alive?"

In the silence that followed her question, she could see his eyes, once more filled with disbelief that her father's mission had failed. That her father and his son, her first betrothed, had been killed.

His answer pierced through the silence. "I do not know." He paused, pensively. "We both know there was something wrong about the fact that we recovered all of the bodies of your father's crew and couldn't find his," he capitulated. "There is also the failed mission on Risa, when we tried to catch Minos, your memory wipe and his suicide. They were all indicators that there was more going on than meets the eye."

She saw a flash of annoyance in his eyes, before he continued.

"From the beginning, there have been rumors about your father, illogical ones such as: He was taken captive and not killed, or that he was a spy returning to his home world. I never told you anything about this. They were all mindless speculations, based on nothing but irrational hope. I have known your father since he was five years old. He was a true Vulcan, different in many ways, but his heart belonged to our planet. He tried to live like a Vulcan would, searching for his path in life. He was no traitor and the rumors died out quickly. I have not heard any rumors about your father in a very long time, until three months after you were imprisoned. A source told us that a man called Karik was a slave in one of the Romulan dilithium mines in the Dosa-system. He was known for helping other slaves and had formed group of like-minded Vulcans."

"This fits with Lieutenant Thott's story. The picture that she drew looked like a planet covered by snow, gray fog and rocks, a world of ice such as many that harbor dilithium. She told Lieutenant Arling that a man called Karik helped her escape. This is proof that my father is alive."

It looked like the ambassador hesitated for a second before reminding her, "Such a claim is not proof. You know it is merely a testament." He stopped walking and told her, "But there is more, T'Pol. According to our sources, the group also tried to show Surak's way to the Romulans. A strange idea, but a few Romulans seemed to have chosen the path of Surak."

T'Pol couldn't hide her astonishment. "They embraced the teachings of Surak? From what I heard, the Romulans are a violent race, filled with rage against us."

"It becomes stranger. Word is that these Romulans wanted to form a union with Vulcans. They believed that, in the past, Romulans and Vulcans were related. A ridiculous idea."

Thinking of the many history lessons her father taught her, she rebutted, "There are many stories about Vulcans leaving the planet and using a different interpretation of Surak's teaching."

"The Romulan life has nothing in common with Surak's teachings. The Romulans are not lost brothers," Soval interrupted her sharply. "No Vulcan can survive without following the way of Surak. Our violent past shows this clearly. There is no Vulcan connection with Romulans."

With a more neutral voice he continued, "If there was, we would be put in a very difficult position, now with this looming war between Humans and Romulans. What the group wanted is of no concern, T'Pol. The only thing you need to remember is that they don't exist anymore. Their ideas weren't met with approval. We heard that both the rebels and the Romulans following them were accused of treason and after a trial, put to death."

T'Pol felt her _katra_ crushed by this words. Grief, pain and regret surfaced. She experienced that moment again, the loss of her youth when she heard her father had died. Apparently, she had held an illogical hope that her father was alive. Logic should dictate her thoughts. She gained control, but her slip had been seen by the ambassador.

His voice became stern. "T'Pol, we have no proof that your father was the leader of this group. It's more logical to accept that he died many years ago. We cannot change the past. Use your logic and make the following calculation: What are the chances, in a universe as big as ours, that your father survived, became the agitator of a rebel group, met a woman from another part of the galaxy, helped her escape and she ending up on Earth, spying for Starfleet?"

"The changes are approximately .0000321 percent," she calculated.

"Exactly. It isn't a logical course of events."

Was it the years spent with Humans, people who held hope as the core essence, or did the katra of her optimistic Human mate influence her to remonstrate, "You are correct, but I must point out that my experience with Humans has taught me that reality doesn't always follow logic."

For a moment, she thought that Soval was going to rebuke her again_. _Then she heard him say in a defensive baritone, "I will always follow logic, but indeed, life sometimes doesn't." In a different timbre, he proceeded, "Speaking of defying logic, how is Commander Tucker doing?"

"He is in good health," she stated.

Soval stopped and raised an eyebrow.

Their walk to the bridge had almost ended and they were standing just before the entrance.

"He asked me to marry him," she answered his unspoken question. T'Pol could not express how content she was with that outcome.

"It's good to see he is fulfilling his duty," Soval commented dryly, before entering the bridge.

T'Pol had always been afraid Trip would grow tired of her, that his interest was rooted in alien curiosity or the challenge that represented, that their species were too different to combine and he would turn away. Her assumptions had been unfounded. Trip had chosen her, not because of duty, or even because of the bond, but from his heart. It must be that same hopeful Human influence that she didn't want it any other way.

When she entered the bridge, the engines kicked in, the alloy hull shuddering under the pressure, and tensions rang high. The roaring of the engines vibrated in her mind together with a surge of satisfaction and pride that could only come from the ship's Chief Engineer. Within a second, the ship had reached its highest speed, piercing through time and space with ferocity. _Enterprise _was on her way.

* * *

In the ready room, the mission's importance showed in every officers' tense expression. **Phlox **looked at their young faces: Hoshi, Travis, T'Pol, Tucker, Reed and Captain Archer, accompanied by the elder generation in Admiral Black and Ambassador Soval.

Showing a picture of Senator Tenson, Captain Archer came right down to business. "Our mission is to retrieve this woman. Senator Tenson has been part of Starfleet Command and a good friend Earth's president. We have reason to believe she's been operating for a long time as a Romulan spy and is responsible for the death of at least four Starfleet officers. She fled, using an Orion ship, and we are heading to her last known location."He nodded stiffly to T'Pol and she took over.

"At those coordinates, we are going to trace the Orion ship's warp trail and follow her." T'Pol stopped. "May I make a suggestion, Captain?"

Upon receiving his permission she went on. "Taking into account that Senator Tenson wants to flee to Romulan space as soon as possible, and judging from the last coordinates, I assume she is heading to the Kajina system. The wormhole in the area is often used as an escape route. The Romulan attack on the Earth colony was in the nearby Dosa system. Two Starfleet ships, _Columbia_ and _Atlantis, _are now returning to Earth after investigating the attack that has destroyed the colony. No Romulan ships have been found, but my advice is that they join us in case we do meet any Romulan ships that would want to protect Senator Tenson."

Captain Archer looked skeptical, but Lieutenant Reed said, "If I may say so, sir, I'm in complete agreement with Commander T'Pol."

So, Archer decided in favor. "Hoshi, contact _Columbia_ and _Atlantis_. Explain the situation and ask their help, but first give your report on the Romulan database, especially anything about Tenson.

Hoshi gave her report in a calm and collected matter that made Phlox proud of her. "The database was written by Tenson. Once we were able to get past the encrypted codes, the Communications Department started to translate the data. If you analyze the information, a profile of the writer can be made. Tenson is devoted to the Romulan cause. She thinks Humans pose a threat to the Romulan way of life, especially the Coalition. She's old fashioned. Spying, attacking colonies, space wars, while staying unknown - she had no problem with that. She makes a reference to the nanites scheme, called _Crawl_ in Romulan, but her formulation when she describes the plan suggests she thought it was sneaking up on the enemy and winning without a fight. She considered it dishonorable, lacking in pride."

"I would have thought she'd be delighted." Admiral Black shrugged and turned to his audience. "While is imperative we find Tenson, it's more important we stop her. She knows everything about our ships, our defenses, our command structure, our weak points. We must not allow her to aid the Romulans any longer, if we want to avoid being sitting ducks in this coming war."

All nodded in perfect understanding of the grim situation.

Captain Archer moved along. "We're also looking for information on the whereabouts of a person who helped Tenson with the nanites-plan: Raijin. We're all familiar with her." A picture of Raijin was shown. "This is our second aim. The communication team found new information about her in the database."

"Yes," Hoshi elaborated. "Raijin is from a species that are sold as slaves to owners who make money off their telepathic abilities. It looks like she worked for the Romulans before. When she was hired by the Xindi to examine our bodies for their biological weapon, she got an extra assignment from her owner, a favor for the Romulans. She had to bring in information about Commander T'Pol. The database mentioned that Raijin's slave owner had sold her daughter to the Romulans. From what I can tell, they used her child as leverage to make Raijin, who they see as a very talented telepath, work for them."

A mystery that had been simmering in the back of Phlox's mind finally had an answer. "That would explain Raijin's attack on Commander T'Pol in the Expanse."

"I thought the same," Hoshi commented. "From what I can tell, because Raijin already had medical knowledge about Humans and knew the Enterprise crew, including the captain, she was assigned to help the Romulans with _Operation_ _Crawl_. The ship in the Kajina system was a pretense. There are lines in the data base that suggest that during that ship's discovery by Captain Archer, they had help from a colonist. They shot this man and tested the nanites on Captain Archer. Then they infested the ship with nanites, so that they would infect any Starfleet officers who examined the ship."

"They easily erased any memories of those events from the captain's brain," Admiral Black concluded. "One more thing: The late Lieutenant Arling, Ambassador Soval and I have been investigating the possibilities of a Romulan spy for some time. We're here because it turns out we have the same mission, so off to your stations and let's get this done."

"Yes, sir," the whole crew responded.

Phlox went back to his sickbay. His task was to examine every crew member and to observe closely those who were effected affected by the nanites, using remote monitors. After an hour and a half, Captain Archer informed him that _Enterprise_ had reached the last known coordinates of the Orion ship and found a warp trail leading in the direction of the Kajina system. Crew members came and went and meanwhile he was busy monitoring the crew. Hours passed away.

It must have been about 40 hours after launch when one of the monitors starting peeping. It was one of the engineers and it looked like his transmitter was going on-line.

He hailed the bridge. "I have a security breach in Engineering. I am heading toward there and I could use security."

Lieutenant Reed answered his call, speaking softly, "You mean the nanite-transmitter is working and one of our engineers is getting influenced by the Romulans?"

Before Phlox could answer, a loud blast made all communication impossible. The ship shook like a leaf. Metal shrieked, followed by people screaming, then a hollow silence. Then the alarms went off.

"Red alert! All stations. Red alert!

* * *

**Malcolm Reed** hated his life and by the looks of it, it would end soon. It was all the Romulans' fault. Two minutes ago they had a visual on the Orion ship. Hoshi hailed the captain of the vessel. The Orion captain's face, bearing a smile he didn't trust, appeared on screen. When the captain talked with the Orion, he saw that Hoshi got a message. He signaled her to put it through to his console. Using his headset, he heard Phlox's warning that someone in engineering was acting as if the nanites were active, which meant there were Romulans close by.

Quickly, he called Archer and signaled with his hand to cut the transmission.

The captain didn't hesitate. "Do it," he ordered Hoshi and mid-sentence the Orion captain disappeared. "Full screen."

The screen showed a field of black, dotted with myriad stars with two ships that had come out of nowhere, lurking like vultures in the sky. Then a hard blow crashed into the ship, creating a roaring wave of destruction.

The Orion ship made a run for it.

"Captain," T'Pol looked up from her console. "Sensors indicated only Orion life signs on that ship. I have found 30 distinct Romulan life signs on one Romulan vessel, and 31 life signs on the other. All of them are Romulan, except for one obscure life sign."

"Tenson is on that ship; she must have transported to the second Romulan vessel," the captain concluded. Archer was barely able to finish his sentence, because the Romulan vessels started firing again. The bridge shook on impact, spurts of fire, machines going off line. Smoke appeared. Despite foreknowledge and preparation, they were helpless.

Not if he could help it. "Torpedoes, Captain!" he yelled behind his tactical board. He hardly heard Archer's answer, because his fingers were already on the buttons. Malcolm understood that they needed to defend against both ships while disabling Tenson's ship. Luckily sensors were working. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to distinguish between the identical birds.

A second later, he saw the torpedoes fly, aimed at the Romulan ship T'Pol had indicated bore Tenson. The ship swiftly turned and only part of its tail was hit. He cursed, then heard T'Pol's calm voice giving him the coordinates of a new attack. He suddenly loved all Vulcans, staying calm in the midst of chaos.

Soval had joined T'Pol, using the console next to her. Malcolm was sure that they both used every trick in the book to distract any incoming fire. T'Pol's fingers danced on the board, calmly followed by Soval. Without a word, Admiral Black took his position, next to Hoshi, calling out every bit of information the sensors and ship's reports were offering them.

Travis rolled and banked to avoid any hits, but all their work could not prevent a new wave of blasts near the port bay, rocking the ship. It looked like the Romulans knew where to strike.

"Polarized hull plating is holding at 60 percent," T'Pol reported.

A surge of adrenaline went through his blood. Briefly he thought of Rianna, how she once told him how he liked to look into the sky and blow things up. There was more to it. This was his heart's desire; this was why he served: To protect _Enterprise_ and to destroy the enemy. He counterattacked, which resulted in several detonations on the right wing of the lead Romulan ship.

He was ready to coordinate another strike, but then there was nothing more than the sound of incoming thunder. The whole bridge trembled on impact, shrapnel flying. One, then two explosions followed, knocking Hoshi out of her seat in a stream of sparks. She hit the ground with a thud, dead weight. From his place he couldn't see her. She didn't stand up. His heart stopped. Not again.

"Sickbay, we need medical assistance!" he screamed but the lines were dead.

Then from the corner of his eye, he saw a bird approaching.

T'Pol gave the coordinates, he aimed, and a full spread of torpedoes pierced through the sky. Direct hit on their port bay.

He vaguely saw Soval, green blood oozing from a head wound, moving to Hoshi. He lifted her from the deck and Malcolm saw burn wounds and blood matted next to her right ear. It made him sick. Not her ears.

"I will take her to sickbay," Soval explained.

Brusquely, the captain, his face smeared with ash, turned toward him. "You're injured yourself. Stay in sickbay. Things may get ugly and we want to bring you back in one piece."

"I have no intention of breaking into pieces, captain and will return shortly," Soval retorted quickly and as he left the bridge, carrying Hoshi as if she weighed no more than a feather.

Admiral Black interrupted "We should try to aim for the bridge, the central area of the lead ship. According to what we know, Romulans are strictly hierarchical. Without a leader, there will be no attack and according to sensors, that's the ship Tenson is on."

The captain took his suggestion and added one of his own. "Travis, bring us in closer. Malcolm, you heard the man. Hit the bridge."

In a split second Travis moved the ship into a new dance and _Enterprise_ surgedtoward the ship like a tiger to its prey. Malcolm spat his commands to the Armory. A volley of torpedoes found their way into the bird, shaking their target.

"Direct hit to the bridge," T'Pol commented. The other Romulan ship made a sharp turn and fired. A flash of fire crashed into the ship._ Enterprise_ was trembling like a kite, caught on a strong wind.

"Direct hit to Engineering. Plating is down to 43 percent," T'Pol reported.

Admiral Black, who had been working to restore communication, brought some good news. "Communications is back on line."

"Quick, back off, we're too close," the captain ordered.

Travis moved the ship backward hastily, but the other Romulan ship made another go round. Malcolm felt the impact beneath his feet. When the movement died out, the bridge door slid open. Soval returned, taking his place next to T'Pol.

"Several hits on Engineering. Warp speed is fluctuating. Plating is down to 21 percent," T'Pol reported.

"Armory is functioning, sir," Malcolm said. "We should return fire. Not a second to waste."

"Maybe we should retreat. Engineering is heavily damaged and our hull plating is failing. Another attack may not be wise," T'Pol counter-argued.

"I agree," Soval remarked, "but if we do attack, I suggest we aim at Engineering."

"We're not here to hide. Fire, Malcolm," said the captain, making his decision.

Travis angled the ship, as Malcolm executed the order with relish. Their weapons fire slammed into the Romulan bird with obvious force, causing visible damage to an area next to the bridge.

Malcolm felt a surge of utter satisfaction, but his feeling of victory was short lived. Again the other ship moved forward, lashing a volley of torpedoes into their ship, causing several violent explosions in the Engineering section. T'Pol reported heavy damage and a dropping of their plating to 10 percent.

"Captain," Trip's voice came from Engineering through the intercom. "One more hit and the warp core is going to breach. We're not going to catch these guys if we're splattered in a millions pieces, so you better take T'Pol's advice."

"How on Earth..?"

"Educated guess. Get us out of here, while we still have some power!"

Malcolm saw the reluctance on the captain's face as well as irritation over being ordered to do anything by a junior officer. He was not willing to retreat, either. Not if there was any chance of catching Tenson.

The Romulans didn't gave them time to think because T'Pol detected another attack. "Incoming, starboard."

"Evasive maneuvers!" the captain shouted.

Travis' fingers moved, the ship took a sharp turn, twisted around and headed backward. This time the attack didn't reach its intended target.

"There is an M-class planet nearby to which we could retreat," T'Pol suggested.

"Permission to lay in a course, sir?" Travis asked.

Before the captain could answer, torpedoes shot into sight on their viewscreen striking the lead ship in silent impact. The Romulan ship with Tenson on board lit up like fireworks, before the area next to the bridge was exploding before his eyes.

"_Columbi_a and _Atlantis_ have come to our aid," T'Pol told the captain.

To his surprise, Malcolm saw that both Romulan ships broke off with great speed. It looked like the ship Tenson was on was the most damaged. The limping ship had trouble flying as quickly as the other ship. A flash of light and Malcolm saw the other ship used a tractor beam to pull the other along. According to T'Pol, they were heading toward the wormhole.

In hot pursuit, the three Starfleet vessels followed. The wormhole was in sight. The most mobile Romulan vessel released its tractor beam, leaving Tenson's ship on its own and shot into the wormhole.

Tensons vessel was dead in the water. They had her. Archer hailed the bird. Malcolm expected to finally see a Romulan face to face, but instead Tenson's head filled the screen.

"Tenson, you better surrender," captain Archer demanded. "We have three ships, your ship is heavily damaged and your aid is gone. We're going to transport you to our ship. All things considered, I think the ship is coming with us too."

Tenson grinned. She wore an immaculate, form-fitting uniform. Her hair was pulled neatly into a bun. She was totally calm and in control. With disdain she answered, "You are such a fool, captain. You have no idea. Making allies with a species you knew nothing about, believing that they just happened to fly by when your people reached warp."

Archer got angry. "I don't need lectures from you. Energize."

Nothing happened. Tenson stayed in her place and sneered. "Remember this: You will never see a Romulan alive. The dead one lives more and the captives are more free."

A glint of fanaticism and an indifference toward dying in Tenson's eyes, made Malcolm yell, "Reverse course! She is going to self-destruct!"

At the same moment, the transmission was cut off and on screen the Romulan ship turned into a huge orange fireball and collapsed into so much debris. Travis had instinctively put the ship in reverse as fast as possible. Nevertheless, the wave of destruction caught up, surrounding them in a stream of orange flames, pushing _Enterprise _forward, shaking the ship.

When the shockwaves faded and _Enterprise_ was stable again, reports came pouring in. Engineering reported that they had some wounded and major repairs to complete. Trip also informed them that Ensign Trinaro had been acting weird, as Phlox had attempted to warn him he would. The engineering crew had apprehended and cuffed him and would escort him to sickbay. Phlox called in as well, with sad news. Two crewmen had lost their lives and 20 people were wounded, two of them critically.

Archer contacted the other Starfleet ships. _Columbia_ and _Atlantis_ went through the wormhole, searching for the other Romulan ship. They returned after a while, telling them they hadn't found any trace. Meanwhile, the science team investigated the debris of Tenson's vessel. She had done a meticulous job. Everything was little more than dust.

When they finally headed back to Earth, Malcolm took the chance to visit his team in the Armory, to compliment them on a job well done. Then he checked on his security men and paid a small visit to sickbay. One of his friends was there: Hoshi.

Phlox greeted him absently, busy as he was caring for multiple patients. Hoshi lay on a bio bed in a corner of sickbay, her eyes closed, bandage wrapped over the right side of her face, her long, black hair draped on the pillow. She was terribly pale.

While he stood over her, she opened her eyes gradually. They were dark with pain. "_Itai_," she whispered, before closing her eyes again.

Phlox went to her. "She is in a lot of pain," he explained, pushing a hypospray against her neck.

"Will she recover?" he needed to ask.

"I am hopeful," Phlox answered.

Alone in the crowd, he was about to leave, when Phlox walked up to him. "Lieutenant Reed, I am sure Hoshi will make practically a full recovery, as will all of my patients. " He gave Malcolm a big, encouraging smile, that did anything but. Phlox continued, "We found a cure for the nanites, we hindered the enemy's plan and the mastermind of the whole operation is dead. We are heading home and this horrible episode is over. It's over, Lieutenant Reed. That's something to be happy about."

Phlox was right, the eminent threat was over. However, seeing the dead in sickbay, covered under blue sheets, the wounded struggling and in pain, Malcolm had a gut feeling he would see this kind of scene many times in the years to come.

"_It isn't over," _he thought, feeling cold inside. "_A bloody war just started. This is only the beginning._"

* * *

A/N: Please read the end of this story in the epilogue.

**Translation of Japanese word**

Itai - pain


	19. Chapter 18 The Epilogue

The captives

By panyasan

**The Epilogue**

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

**Time-line: **Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).

**Author's note:** At the end of this journey, I would like to express my sincere thanks to my beta KKGlinka, for all her help and support shaping this story and to all my readers, who made this story a joy to write.

* * *

**A week after the battle with the Romulan ships - T'Pols beach house at Stenson beach -**

The sun had rising and rays of lights shine in his room, making the yellow guest room he was staying warm and sunny. He could hear the soft breeze of the wind and the gentle crashing of the waves of the sea nearby. **Kov** woke up.

Nephew Noru was already awake. Placed on a pillow in a corner of the room, with a candle placed in front of him, he was meditating. Kov quickly put on a robe and prepared for meditation. After this, he made breakfast and thought about his task for this day. He would help the guests, from offering them food and drinks to helping the non-Vulcan guest in their robes. Most importantly, he would be a witness to Trip and T'Pols wedding. Trips best man.

Briefly his mind wandered off to T'Rel. He knew by now her father wasn't very pleased with him. His father on the other hand, was very much in favor of him marrying T'Rel and Kov trusted his fathers negotiations skills. What more, he had seen evidence that T'Rels _katra_ was set on him. It only would be logical that one day he would be standing before the priest, kneeling down and touched fingers with her. That day, that he would bond with T'Rel, couldn't come soon enough. Now it was Trips time.

* * *

_**Starship Enterprise, **_**heading back to Earth****– two days after the battle - **

He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this way. Somehow just the sight of Erika brightened his day. **Jon** looked at the women across the table: her friendly face, the way the mood in her eyes went from amusement to seriousness.

Captain Erika Hernandez of _Columbia _was here on official business and quickly they went down the list of things to discuss. "The explosion of the Romulan ship was charged with an unknown material, enough to vaporize every trace of DNA or other clues. Science team is looking into the matter, see if they can discover more about this material," Erika told him. She handled him the PADD with information.

Erika waited for him to put the PADD down, before she told him her other news. "Did you also read the file of the team that is investigating the where-abouts of Raijin? By the looks of it, the way no trace in to be found and this report, it's all very convenient for the Romulans. Too much for my taste."

He nodded, his mind racing by the mentioning of Raijin. Using the Romulan database, the team stated in their report there were strong indications the Romulans killed Raijin, because she failed their mission. Jon had felt a strange mixture of anger and sadness, when he had heard the news. He knew that Raijin had hurt his best friend, had attack the crew in the past and also used him like a lab rat. This whole year of hell behind him, the nights waking up in sweat because of his weird nightmares, it was all her doing. In his darkest hours, he had wanted her dead. But now it looked like she was, her death gave him no satisfaction.

He quickly changed to subject. "I think Starfleet Command agrees that recent events makes it look like the Romulans have the upper hand. The memo with direct orders they sent yesterday making the matter of Tenson and the nanites classified has everything to do with it."

"The famous "keep your mouth shut" memo" Erika replied, "I heard Command wants to make every crew member involved to sign a document swearing complete secrecy on the matter. I think that's going a bit to far. A official order to the crew members to keep silent would be enough,"

"They dropped the idea of signing a document, if my talk with them yesterday was any indication" Jon reassured her, "The whole memo sprouted from their fear that people on Earth will hear about the fact that one of there was a Romulan spy. Command is horrified by the idea that story about how a Romulan has infiltrated Starfleet on the highest level, combined with nanites influencing the mind of our officers will become public knowledge. It would seriously damage Starfleet prestige. Terra Prime and other groups could use it to vilify us. Command fears that people would start second guessing Starfleet and that support, also financially, would fall back. And we need all the support we can get when this Romulan conflict starts."

"Of course I see the need of secrecy," Erika responded with a slight irritation in her voice. "So the memo was the reason you spoke with Command yesterday for two hours."

Erika was always had been very perceptive of what went on, but the memo was not all he had discussed with Command. Even he immediately developed a headache thinking about the implications regarding the chain of command and fraternization rules, Jon felt a small surge of satisfaction that he got to tell Erika the most juiciest news in the young history of Starfleet."No, that had to do with two of my senior officers."

Erika's eyes got big. "Commander Tucker and T'Pol. What about them?"

"They are getting married."

* * *

This was not good. The moment **Trip **had entered the ready room after admiral Black's call he knew something was wrong. T'Pol was already there, sitting up in a very straight matter in one of the chairs, opposite the desk where the admiral was sitting. He couldn't sense much of her, only a vague feeling of confusion. Next to him, and that another sign that something was going on, was Ambassador Soval.

"Sit down, Commander Tucker," Black invited him. He took on the chair.

He looked at the admiral, his stern, but friendly face, how his spotless uniform hang on his perfectly straight shoulders. "First of all, Commander Tucker and T'Pol, on behalf of Starfleet Command, I would like to congratulate you on your intention of getting married."

He hadn't expected to be congratulated and he softly released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Nevertheless, your marriage will lead to some consequences. It has raised some issues about the chain of command and fraternization rules. Of course, the two of you or one could resign, but we like to keep you. We therefore strongly recommended that you and Commander T'Pol serve on different ships. "

Trip had expected and threaded this moment. He and T'Pol had wanted to be as forthcoming to Starfleet as possible. Nonetheless, he and T'Pol needed to be on one ship. He didn't want to be separate from her and his Vulcan wife to be certainly had all the reason not to.

"That is not an option, sir," he started, but Black interrupted him. "I know, Ambassador Soval told us that in the Vulcan fleet couples served together and Vulcan tradition demands that at least in the first years you serve together. It's a matter of biology the Ambassador explained to us and being separate from your mate would lead to health problems."

Black turned to Soval. "I hope I phrased it correctly."

"You did," the Ambassador spoke calmly for the first time.

"Starfleet Command sympathizes with Vulcan customs, but several members of Command have pointed out that we are a Human organization and that Human rules would prevail," Black continued.

"With due respect, sir," Trip answered him, "I disagree. If we are going to be a Coalition of several species, serving together, Starfleet just can simple say that every member should obey Human rules. Generally speaking yes, but there should be room for exceptions, especially when it has to do with the biological needs of a specie."

T'Pol added "Captain Archer told me that Starfleet had plans in the far future for a mission of five years in deep space. If such a mission is to be taken place and the captain is married, I think Starfleet would not order him to leave his wife on Earth alone for five years. They would make an exception."

Trip nodded. "Rules are good, but in the past rules were changed for the better good."

"There weren't changed overnight, Commander," Black retorted. He gave them a stern look before concluding "Ambassador Soval brought up the same objections. We discussed them last night, we came to the conclusion they were valid, so we decided to make this exception in your case." He paused. "We still have a favor to ask from you."

_Here is comes_, Trip thought. _The real reason why we are here._ The sinking feeling he got when he entered the room reappeared.

"You know we sent a memo out ordering every one involved in the case of Tenson and the nanites to keep this matter confidential," Black embarked. "Not a word to any one outside Starfleet. I don't have to tell you what the consequences would be if this story will leak to the press."

He did anyway and spelled out those effect for his audience"We will lose all our support on Earth and we need it. We can't win this war when people having serious doubts about us. More then they already have. Tied into this, we would like to let the people think that the reason Commander T'Pol disappeared for a year, was because of the break up between the two of you. If any one finds out that Commander T'Pol was sent to prison for being unfit in command in a war situation, this could be the final blow in the already fragile relationship between Earth and Vulcan and maybe also to the Coalition."

"What has this do to with the favor you wanted to ask form us?" Trip inquired.

"It means that the best way to prevent any disturbance, is that you keep your marriage low profile. No public announcement, no public ceremony. The people who should know about it, are already informed and that would be enough. For the public eye, you two are still separated and certainly not married."

"Isn't being a public act what makes a marriage? It's an act of commitment, made for any one to witness," Trip objected. He casted a look at T'Pol. She didn't like it either.

"You could say, it's public, only for a select group," Black defended his proposition.

Trip knew it was not the same. "Could you give me a moment with T'Pol to discuss this?" he asked. He was given permission and left alone with T'Pol, Trip asked what her thoughts were.

"Starfleet grants us an opportunity to marry and serve on the same ship," T'Pol brought up. "The other possibility is that we both resign from Starfleet and make our marriage public."

"We have no idea what the effect would have on Starfleet," he answered, "and I can't live with the thought of abandon Starfleet in a time like this. If the Romulans attack another Human colony or Earth, like the Xindi, I don't want to be a bystander. I want to be involved and the only way we can protect Earth and the colonies is by the only starfleet we have."

He saw a flicker of pride in her eyes. "I thought you would. I am leaving Starfleet either. Our best option is to accept Starfleet Command request."

"With a couple of adjustments. The marriage has to be legal on Earth. You would have the rights as my wife as any other Human woman would. If we are so lucky to have kids, I want them to have a double citizenship, on Earth and on Vulcan. I don't want my children to be treated as an alien on their home planet."

"There is nothing as such at this moment, but we could ask if Ambassador Soval could make legal adjustments to our treaties with Humans," T'Pol suggested.

"I want also Starfleet to investigate who is sending you those threat letters," he added.

"The threat letters have little to do with our situation," T'Pol remarked.

"Not true," Trip answered vehemently, anger filling his voice. "It's the fear of riots and slander from guys like Terra Prime that made Command made this request. We taking a step back if we want to establish a Coalition between species that would benefit all."

He continued "Wouldn't the truth be a better way to deal with bigots like Terra Prime? To show that a relationship between a Vulcan and a Human can work. When they find the person who is sending those sick letters, at least something is done against them. Now it's looks they are winning."

T'Pol brushed his shoulder in a comforting gesture. He stared into her warm, brown eyes. "We are together, Trip. They will never win."

Admiral Black and Ambassador Soval returned and their requests were met with the promise they would be granted. Black asked them to inform any one involved today.

Trip couldn't read Blacks face, he expected that the admiral would look pleased or relieved, but nothing was shown on his face.

"_It was an reasonable favor of Starfleet to ask_ _from us_, he thought. _"Every body gets what they want. It's the only way."_ But when he shook the hand of Black, almost in a fashion to seal the deal, he couldn't help a gut feeling arisen, telling him he made a mistake. It was a feeling he pushed aside very quickly.

* * *

**A week after the battle with the Romulan ships - T'Pols beach house at Stenson beach -**

The wedding guests stood outside in half a circle. In front of them stood Trip, dressed in a blue Vulcan robe. All the discussion, only a few days ago, were forgotten. All he had on his mind was that he stood here, ready for his wedding, sand beneath his feet, the sun warmed him and the wind gentle whispered, waiting for T'Pol to arrive. His eyes went to the faces of his friends, surrounding him. There were his best men: Kov in a yellow brown robe and Malcolm dressed in a green one. The witnesses of T'Pol stood next to them: ambassador Soval, dignified as ever and Phlox, looking rather short and funny in his Vulcan brown robe. They were other guest, Jon, captain Hernadez, admiral Black. The Vulcan robes looked good on them both. Before him the priest, Kovs nephew Noru, took his place

Trip had noticed the wisdom and the warm interest of the priest for the strange Human he was about to marry. Noru had explained to him the three Vulcan ceremonies of marriage. "Vulcan marriages are only complete after three ceremonies, one symbolizing the joining of logic and mind by the joining of the hands, one of the joining of _katra's_ by spending time and living together for preferably a year and one is the joining of the body. As your priest who performs the first ceremony, you can always come to me for advice, for example if you want to have more information about the two other ceremonies."

"I think I will manage," he had said amused, thinking about ceremony number three. "But thank you for wanting to help us. " he said with a smile. "Are you married, Noru?" he asked out of simple curiosity.

"My order believes a priest should be married before performing ones. Marriage is seen as educational."

Educational. He bet it was. He would find out soon. Everything was set for the ceremony. For a second his mind went back to that horrible day , when he had seen the same setting. The time when he had realized he loved T'Pol and she had been walking towards Koss to kneel down and touch their fingers. He never had felt so lost. Even now it hurt just to think about it. He pushed the memory quickly away.

A whisper went trough the guests and when he looked to the house, he saw T'Pol walking towards him, stepping forward to be with him. She was coming to become his wife.

T'Pol was dressed in a beautiful flaming red dress, on her head a red veil. The same veil material was draped around her top part, that fitted her body nicely. The red layers of her skirt fell down with grace to the ground. She was totally a Vulcan woman. She looked wonderful. She looked gorgeous. She was changeling the world with that red dress and at the same time making a clear statement that she was his.

"_That's my girl,_" he thought.

They knelt down at the same time, looking in each other eyes, their fingers found their way and they touched. Her brown eyes shined towards him and revealed adoration, affection, a deep knowing that they were making the right choice, and a determination to make things works. It was a moment he would cherish.

Then the priest, dressed in a brownish robe with purple decorations on his kerchief, started the ceremony, almost singing the words in his melodious Vulcan. He stopped and changed to English. "The bride have asked me to add some words to the ceremony."

Trip exchanged a surprised look with T'Pol, but then he heard the words of the priest. "Tucker, Charles Antony, do you take this woman to be your wife, to love and to hold, to cherish, in good times and bad times, in sickness and in health, until death will separate your _katra_'s?"

He just stared into T'Pols eyes, knowing he loved her. "I do," he said firmly. The priest turned to T'Pol. She spoke her "I do" with a soft, but strong voice and her eyes were smiling.

It was like a whole year of pain slipped of his shoulders.

The priest started singing Vulcan phrases again. _This is the Vulcan heart._ _This is the Vulcan_ _soul_. The song washed over him, lifting his spirits, making him sure and happy of the path ahead.

Trip knew the journey before them wasn't easy. But like T'Pol had said "This is my path", it was his path too, a path that they would travel together. It made all the difference in the world. He was free and happy and whole.

They were alone. The guest had left. Without the sounds of chatter and laughs, the house was silent again. T'Pol didn't mind. She looked at Trip, who had taken a seat in one of the chairs and tried to loosen his collar. She walked over him and kissed him. Then she took his hand and gently guided him to their bedroom.

T'Pol moved her hand across his shoulder, getting him out the upper garment of his robe, while placing her lips on his for a kiss.

Trip threw her an amusing look. "Getting impatient, darling?"

Noticing from his response and his smell, she wasn't the only one. "It is tradition to move now to the second and third ceremony," she said between kisses, trying to release the white collar under his clothing and remove the second layer of the robe.

"I think you want to skip the second and start with the third," Trip teased her, kissing her back. At the same time he was trying, rather hindering her in her movements, to untie the button that held her zipper on the back of her dress. Their actions were even more hindered by the kisses they shared. Kisses that created a passion like a flame, warming her _katra_. In the past her desire for Trip had bewildered and confused her, but now she welcomed the sensation.

He twiddled at the button, unable to open it, so she whispered "Push the button and then turn clockwise."

"Luckily I have skilled hands," he grinned, releasing the button. His hand found the zipper and he pushed her red dress downwards. She relished his touch. The dress became a red pool on the ground.

Her research on Human wedding customs had indicated that the favorite undergarment on such occasion was a that a black velvet corset and black garters connecting stockings in matching colors. In the past her research had led to the wrong conclusions and miscommunication, not this time. Trip looked to her from head to foot with the pleasure in his eyes.

He kissed her and then there was only a craving to touch, a longing to be close, to feel each other, a yearning to become one. The bond sparkled between them, feeding their affection and joy, underlining the feeling of the touch of her kissing, their tongues dueling, the sweet fondling of Trips hands on her body, which made her feel loved and wanted more and wanted to give that same caress to him. Their joining was fierce and intense. All their accumulated and hold back emotions burst into one action.

They turned position and she laid down on his chest, feeling his cooler skin beneath her, her emotions overwhelming her. She realized how much she needed him and had craved him. How much she had wanted this day. There had been grief, remembering those who weren't with her any more. There was pain and regret of things past, that could not be changed again. There was also her old fear, sticking up his ugly head. "_Never leave me" _hadran to her mind _"and if I ever turn away from you in my foolishness, know that my katra never will leave you."_ There was the unknown of the future with this coming war and their differences. Then and now other emotions flooded her _katra,_ washing away those feelings: desire, longing, protection, affection, joy.

Trip noticed her turmoil of inner emotions. "You're okay?" He moved his hand slowly on her bare back, pleasuring and soothing her.

She moved slightly upwards, meeting him eye to eye. His blue into her brown. She saw his alien hair messy around his face, the face that she knew so well and had seen in her thoughts every day and night when she was in Lethizeh. T'Pol felt strong, truly connected to her Vulcan roots and like she finally was truly released. Prisoner _Ras-kur kling dah-leh-teh reh-leh steh-kuh_ was no more. Everything had fallen into to place. She caressed his cheek with her two fingers, her eyes never leaving his, before laying down her head on his chest again. "I am content," she said.

* * *

**Phlox **had a great day. He loved weddings and being asked by T'Pol to be a witness on her marrying Commander Tucker was a great honor. "We have different personalities and difference of opinions many times, but I have come to respect you as my friend," T'Pol had explained. Her kind words, from a woman never expressing her feelings, had caused a great smile on his face. The ceremony was beautiful and the food was delicious. He had a hard time leaving.

When he traveled back, he decided not to go home, but to return to his work. Hoshi Sato was recovering well, but he liked to check on her regularly. He caught Hoshi, sitting upright in her bio bed, her right ear still in bandage, reading a PADD.

He walked toward her bed and said "I haven't giving you permission to work, ensign."

Hoshi didn't looked guilty at all and gave him one of her warm smiles. "I was bored and I am feeling much better. Besides, I have to give Starfleet enough reasons to let me hold my job."

He signed. "I know you find it hard that your hearing in your right ear isn't a hundred pro cent any more. I told you, there is nothing I can do to make it better. An operation is too risky and would probably make it worse. Remember Hoshi, you're the best linguist in Starfleet. Your knowledge of Romulan is surpassed. Starfleet Command would be a fool to let you go, just because of a slight increasing of your hearing."

"Malcolm said the same," she answered, still holding her PADD.

"You better listen to your friends advice," he answered, taking her PADD away from her. Reed had been a regular visitor, as was Travis and some friends from the science department. Also Commander The romantic in him was pleased, but he had to admit that they only seem to be friends. Well, they both could need a good friend.

"You should get some sleep. I would like you to take a hypospray for the pain." he advised her.

He took the pillow, placed it on the biobed and Hoshi laid down. "No need for a hypospray. I will be fine."

He beg to differ, but it was her choice. When he walked away, Hoshi said, laying down on her bed "I made an interesting discovery."

"You did?" he said, ready to cut the conversation short. She needed her rest.

"Did you know that the word "Vulcan" in Romulan is the same word the Romulans use for "dead one"."

"I think I heard it before. Now go back to sleep."

"_The dead one lives more and the captives more free." _I read that those were the last words of Tenson," Hoshi's voice sounded exited. "If she was playing with words, she could have said "The Vulcan is alive and the prisoners are more free then their guards." It would be interesting to find out why she would say such a thing."

He put on his stern doctors voice when he answered her "Hoshi, you're an excellent linguist, but I doubt if Tenson would ever play with words. It is clear Tenson thought she would honor the Romulan empire more in her death. She saw herself as free, because she was so proud of being a Romulan. Her actions showed that. She killed herself, protecting the Romulans. Any way, who would be that Vulcan, being alive and a prisoner? Why should Tenson mention him? It was all about her."

Hoshi nodded slowly. "You are probably right. I was reading too much in what she said." She closed her eyes for the much needed sleep.

Phlox tugged her in. "Go back to sleep." Hoshi's health was his first priority. To help his patients was the goal in his life.

"Good night, Hoshi."

"Good night, doctor Phlox."

* * *

The whole day thoughts of Rianna had played though his head. **Malcolm Reed** had a difficult day. He was glad for Trip, honored to be his witness and best man, but the wedding had made him aware what he missed. Rianna. After the wedding he went home. Quickly he thought of visiting Hoshi, as was his habit this last week, but he knew that wouldn't be fair. Not today. Not with him thinking of Rianna every minute. In his most cynical moods he laughed at himself and told himself he was a fool. She had used him. But most of the times he knew that she had cared for him. He wished she told him about her background and her work, but as some one who was involved with Section 31 he understood why she hadn't. Rationally.

He searched in one of his desk drawers to find the picture that he had tugged away in a despaired need to stop thinking about Rianna. There it was: her picture. He stared at her smiling, beautiful face. "_I have lost you_," he thought.

"You know, Rianna," he spoke to the face in front of him. "You succeeded. The plan of the nanites failed. Because of your actions, love. Because two people of different species love each other and found out there was something wrong."

He knew this was the last time he would look at her lovely face, because when he put the picture away, he vowed to himself never to look at it again.

The next day he went to Headquarters. He was working behind his desk, when a sound made him look up. It was the captain entering his office, looking grim. Malcolm knew the time of war had come.

"_Enterprise_ is called for duty." Archer started.

"Another Romulan attack?"

The captain nodded. "We are going to be in space for a long time. We have to protect the Human colonies." Then Archer concluded "See you in my ready room on _Enterprise _at 14.00 hours. I am now going to contact Commander Tucker and T'Pol at their beach house."

"_So much for a honeymoon for Trip"_, Malcolm thought.

When he walked into the ready room, they were all there. The captain, stress making lines into his face, Trip, looking rested and confident and T'Pol, with a warmer look then he had seen since he knew her. Travis also was present and to his surprise a pale looking, but determined Hoshi in Starfleet uniform. They were his family. He would die protecting them. These people were the reason he was in Starfleet. There were unique and presenting the best of their species. It was what he had to protect and why he fought the Romulans. To persevere the freedom to make choices. The freedom not be captives or slaves. For the strong conviction, the trust that the forces of chaos and oppression wouldn't win. For the friendship he had received. For the love he had witnessed. For the hope he felt, serving with them. Because without trust, friendship, hope and love, we all be captives.

**The end**

**A/N: **For those who are interested, I have a sequel planned, called "_World of_ _ice_".


End file.
